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styles p - welcome to ny lyrics

[chorus: snyp life, styles p & nino man]
we came to get busy
we ain’t come to talk
welcome to the handgun, welcome to the hawk
this that grimey sh-t you supposed to hear in new york
for n-ggas gettin’ k!lled or gettin’ years from the court
we came to get busy
we ain’t come to talk
welcome to the handgun, welcome to the hawk
this that grimey sh-t you supposed to hear in new york
for n-ggas gettin’ k!lled or gettin’ years from the court

[verse 1: styles p]
came to get busy, styles done made him spin, now he dizzy
face-off, n-ggas gotta ask who is he?
i be in the benz, high as f-ck, playin’ biggie
pretty b-tch, half a brick of yay by her t-tties
egg full of dope in her p-ssy hole
cops gotta k!ll me, can’t book me though ’cause i ain’t doin’ time
got beef with them n-ggas, i bet you i get ’em lined up
let it buck and i bet you it’s in his spine, my gun
death row records, i bet you i get ’em signed
not a major deal, but the major steel
i k!ll your man, then ask you how it made you feel
shove the blade in you, yeah, the rage is real

[verse 2: nino man]
look at me now, doin’ what the f-ck i’m supposed to do
me shinin’, they sucka n-ggas emotional
i’m already wavy, just think what the pressure do
tried to make a quick meal, call it a lunchable
hatin’ in my comments is somethin’ a punk’ll do
them emojis and punctuals’ll gon’ leave you discoverable
i’m out here chillin’ on them back blocks k!llin’ where they crack rock dealin’, sh-t, the trap my buildin’
lames gettin’ money, start sh-ttin’ on n-ggas
not me, if i’m on, i got positions for n-ggas
as soon as i got the plug, i shock the sh-t outta n-ggas
kept sh-t bottled in then blew the lid off them n-ggas

[verse 3: snyp life]
hey yo, snyp gotta bounce like he runnin’ from one-time
bars, gyms, start sharp, cut through your frontline
hustled my whole life, went to jail for a gun crime
on the grind, robbed twenty n-ggas with one nine
smokin’ like a chimney while i’m listening to biggie
we livin’ off experience, my n-ggas run the city
if we ain’t come to talk, sh-t, we came get busy
and get the guts, meanin’ run through it ’til it’s empty
that’s d-block style, two hammers and a hawk
no pork, but i eat these rap n-ggas with a fork
before i say my grace, sh-t, i’m blowin’ out your face
then i’m runnin’ in your safe, we the hardest in the state

[verse 4: dave east]
started with the work but i had to go cop the baggies
bricks are in texas they workin’ out like the aggies
gave ’em a slice on first av’ like patsies
uncle in the kitchen, cookin’ up, knockin’ patti labelle
i could sell if a n-gga gotta get it
these in the store, i threw the dubs in my fitted
explicit, my sh-t is rated r
couple shots at your chest, i’m not tryna break your heart
i shake the narcs
a quiet spot, paint a picture for ’em like basquiat
feel like biggie sippin’ on private stock, [?]

[outro: styles p]
yeah!

- styles p lyrics

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