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Spark Master Tape

Hanson Brothers

Uhhhh.
Paper Platoon.
Yeah.
Uh

Ey' where's your crew hang, we Wu-Tang, we boot camp, you the Hanson Brothers
Hit your fam up with a ransom number, thirty four dollars a pound street brother
You trash heap stunner bro, pretty whip pushin brand new hundred spokes
Still I hit any bitch in the tits with her kids in the crib
Give a shit 'bout another ho up in my shit we slanging
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We got the guns, guns, guns, guns, we slangin'
We got the guns, guns, guns, guns, we slangin'
Uh, I heard that Charlie hacked your bank account
So I'm leaning on my couch, I snorted half a ounce
Sneeze right, man, my nose could cause an avalanche
Brother, I, man I told these kids to listen
I'm Tyson bitches I'm champion, like.