Permission

I'm not like other guys Conductor They come and ask me Before the roles get reversed, they gotta run it past me You need the okay for me to even clear the hit Or get the whole .308 threw through your mirror tint The judge tryna fry me, to have money, gotta have heart Nickel bag get sold in the park? You gotta run it by me It ain't stamped if I ain't stamped it, servin' like I'm Sampras The work came with a brochure and a pamphlet Now that's Mafia I'm talking baklava Mega-poppin', from Roxbury back to Rossiter Yeah, 227, it's simple algebra I'd rather have a million dollars than a million followers Bouncin' out that Rolls-Royce, Don Toliver I put the H in Hermes, this ain't no Hollister Had a threesome with Concrete Connie And a thick white bitch, kinda resemble Supercar Blondie Twenty killers, straps tucked, known for catching homis Skinny nigga racked up, OT7 Quanny Buck-sixty-five wet with my boots on Buck-fifty for my Piguet but it's two-tone On Schoolcraft, selling drugs in the school zone Me and all my brothers stick together like a group home Free all the guys 'til that shit the other way around I pray they make it out that situation safe and sound They come and ask me Before the roles get reversed, they gotta run it past me You need the okay for me to even clear the hit Or get the whole .308 threw through your mirror tint The judge tryna fry me to have money, gotta have heart Nickel bag get sold in the park? You gotta run it by me It ain't stamped if I ain't stamped it, servin' like I'm Sampras The work came with a brochure and a pamphlet Now that's Mafia I'm talking Game Time Like Stephen A. and Skip, we ain't on the same time (never) 227, we that Mafia What Else gang Quattroporte Masi', feel like Mozzy from the Hell Gang (nyoom) On Hellblock in them back-to-back one joints A nigga play with Jack', we gon' get him smacked on point Bust Diddy 41 coupe with foreign features Same niggas be pointing guns that be pointing fingers (tattletales) Playing with them finger-lickers, no Kentucky Fried Hit his lil' bitch, got him lookin' like his puppy died My pockets C-walkin', peace to the blood shuffle Known for breakin' up couples, all the bad bitches love Double (what else?) I love to hustle like my mama love the ballroom Slap a switch on FN and put that bitch on autotune In the ghetto with all the goons, we the Juice Crew This Mafia What Else shit can take some gettin' used to So when they need permission They come and ask me Before the roles get reversed, they gotta run it past me You need the okay for me to even clear the hit Or get the whole .308 threw through your mirror tint The judge tryna fry me, to have money, gotta have heart Nickel bag get sold in the park? You gotta run it by me It ain't stamped if I ain't stamped it, servin' like I'm Sampras The work came with a brochure and a pamphlet Now that's Mafia