Cam'ron

IIWII SEASON 3 FREESTYLE
Uh Shorty said, "Bein' with you is like a odyssey" "Well, is it?", I don't know, probably I did a lot of things to stay away from poverty Rolled mob deep, causing havoc, made me a prodigy R.I.P. Bandana P, and my father Gene Grandpa Jerry, Grandma Dot That was my heart and queen From Andre hustler shit, I used to borrow jeans Then Wu-Tang made that song all they called the "C.R.E.A.M." Thanks Method Man, that hook made my Beretta dance And know I never left no prints, I had them leather hands .38 and it never jam, just smoke like the Netherlands Been flyer for years, seem like I'll never land I was in Rhode Island countin' millions in the Chevrolet All brown shellin' for sure, sure made me prevalent Way before Moderna, I gave fiends they medicine I'm from 140 F, I did this out a tenement I rode the 101 to 2 to M1 bus Three train, four train, Brooklyn They used to bum-rush my block This old dumb duster, had the poppy to fund us I let this money become let me Let me ride the Columbus Got with the gunners Letras de cancionesThe runners turned out humongous in numbers We had the winter when Jay was doin' the summers 'Bron still in high school dunkin' and hittin' jumpers Kept Mav and Rich with 'em Leon Rose like, "Why you dump us?" Saturday's deposit, chasin' Suntrust Word to Donald that no one will ever trump us, us Thought to put that in my bio I'm a Harlem nigga, got accepted by Ohio "How? Wild," of course I was really out there with them Shot the bucket, my nerve, just before the algorithm And the stamp on the dope was dope It said, "Style and rhythm" And they smoked good, real good I had pounds to give 'em I lived in the residence on 161 After Club 69, niggas had to get they gun If you fucked in the parking lot, that was a hit and run 'Til the boys came, and shit was fun, yeah, it was Anyway I told baby girl, "Grab your gear" She like, "Goddamn Cam, I ain't even wrap my hair" "Plus I got work tomorrow, my schedule'll have to clear" I said, "You offerin' information I ain't ask to hear" Curved her, man, I can't even fault her And why lead her on 'cause I'll never see an alter? You know who I am, Cam, a.k.a. Culture Saturday night fever, but the revolver's on Travolta I grew up with the snake, rats, and vultures How you hate on me and murder, nigga? Just applaud us Everywhere I went, I made Harlem look gorgeous Pull up on these diamonds, Mortal Kombat, flawless And my suits, they like eight times your mortage Emmys on the way, forty seconds on the Forbes list I'm talkin' tunnel vision, yeah, tunnel vision I sold bundles, and I went down to the tunnel flippin' On my block, you had to rumble, couldn't fumble missions Flatscreens, nah, I had antennas on the television Shit, I'm right where I need to be Welcome back, season three, it's Killa, bitch Relax, man You gotta relax From Letras Mania