My Name Is Kiss

Yo, yo, I know ****** wit honor and will
That'll still crush the blow up and then pass they mama the bill
So I'ma always be able to burn my strip
Cuz my bags be stuffed and
I burn my tips
And it aint no tellin what the snub'll do
So when y'all go and cop
S's cop one for your mother too
And I'm way better than them other dudes
But I'm stuck wit, what
I'm stuck wit
Cuz I don't suck ****
Sat with the plays and
I stood with the cultures
And I'ma always be in the hood like roaches
Flow is ferocious, dough is ferocious
Two guns by each lung with no holsters
And I control all the fishscale in the city
And still make your first week sales look pretty
I come through, all you hear is chip in the muffler
And you could ask anybody if the
Kiss is a hustler
CHORUS: Styles:
He's a hustler
Jadakiss:
I hustle anywhere, any town, any borough, any strip, uh
S: He's a gambler
J: I always hold it down, gettin bankroll in 4, 5, 6 in trips
S: He's a gangster
J: I always make the paper and the
FBI got me on they list, that's why
S: He's a
Ruff Ryder *****,
Ryde or Die *****
J: By the way, did
I tell you that my name is
Kiss? [Verse 2]
And I don't understand how a broke ***** could chill
When a two liter'll dust you so get you a mil
Yes I got loose ends, poppin out the sunroof of the blue
M I'm like
Lou Sims And
I'ma make sure they hit you wit both shotties
I think this summer's gon be the most bodies
You never ask a ***** in jail if he chillin
Just make sure you make all the sales in the building
Cuz now ****** think it's all right to tell
And you could put out some garbage and it might could sell
Alotta ****** be petty and sheist
But that's only til you treat 'em like a video and edit they life
This is a threat, when
I talk you listen to death
And if I run out of money then my wrist is a bet
And the streets said they wanted more
Kiss Up north ****** pop me in, and do a hundred more dips
CHORUS [Verse 3]
Yo, whether it's **** money or rap money, gamble the s*it
Trey pounds of
Mauseburgs, handle the s*it
Got too big for the city, cops brought in the feds
So we moved across the map and brought in the bread
****** chill for a month and a half, no ruckus
Got the pictures of baggers and all of the gun busters
And you know how it go, cuz it rarely'll change
Everybody got a license and a alias name
We don't smoke when we hustle and none of us talk
Back to back til we home, we can front in
New York Cuz some of us is runnin from court
Smokin ****, mumblin thoughts
Tryin to stay humble for shorts
We could do this the mob way and kiss you on both cheeks
Or do it the hard way and shoot through your gold teeth
Stand on any block, play cee-lo and craps
And break ****** for they pack money, then give it back, uh
CHORUS 2X