Songtext:
[Featuring Black Rob] Webdesigner Verse One: Black Rob I met her uptown on Dyckman, to heighten Talkin that, how she only dealt with businessmen Niggaz baggin joints, money off and on the books The ones who stand firm like gate, nuttin shook about them, I doubt them cats waitin for me Folie für Schaufenster You know them niggaz, them big dudes across the street She say, "Yeah, they from over on Mayfair" Bullets from out of nowhere, told her to stay there and duck down I hit the ground but managed to pull a piece out This bitch over them with them pointin the chief out They want beef out here, they gon' get it istock-video in the worst way, I'ma show em how Black play Roll the dice, fuckin with me is like snake eyes I break guys, sit back and watch my cake rise It's all about the Benjamins, true that be the motto Ran out of ammo and started, throwin bottles Runnin, and I ain't lookin back for shit DTM Crooked ass bitch, today I get you back for this (I'll get you back) Chorus: repeat 2X I love you baby No you don't You drive me crazy That's right I'll never betray thee Uhh Pflanzenextrakte I love you baby C'mon Verse Two: Black Rob (starts rapping during the chorus) Yo since the last altercation I been goin to street Seein honey at the club ery week and I speak I'ma rock that ass to sleep before I strike I ain't know the real deal until last night Immobilien Mittelrhein How, one of them brothers was locked with bankroll Used to call my crib to see seventy-four Kick rhymes over the phone for hours he had the dac babe bro told him, 'You wanna get money, see Black when you get home', we never had chance to get up And wouldn't have, if his gun had left me hit up ferienwohnung port andratx He'd explain how his whole crew was slappin honey Besides all that, she owed them cats a lot of money Funny how it's a small world, baby girl Youse about to get, fucked with no jail I'ma sit back and watch this cake finish bakin And plan your extermination, word Chorus Verse Three: Puff Daddy It took a while to peep your style, Miss I-be-in-workin Low profile single, house in Staten Island and Manhattan while, them same cats you sent to get me boo, is on they to get you Fuckin witchu, that small time crack dealin nigga He a bitch too, they gon' bust his shit too Shit's real, you think you gonna set me up And get away scot free without some type of injury Nah kill it, I'ma flip the script on you Same thing you did to me, I'ma do it to you Who knew she was the female Rambo Fill one of they chest with four soon as he came in the door Life is out, snuffed all they mans in In the end, she had to be the Last Bitch Standin Not for long the buck the forty-four strong Just like that she was gone, now it's over Assumin I'll go back to my everyday life Of a rich millionaire just rockin the mic Gotta pause, and think about honey no doubt and admire how the chick went out Chorus: repeat to fade
