Nice - Styles P, Pitch Black

Yeah

Premo what up baby

Pitch Black, what up baby

This is for hoods everywhere

Hood niggas like it pitch black

I mean that’s just how I see it

Know what I’m saying?

From YO to BK

Let’s go

It’s Mr. Pinero, Premo and Pitch Black

We ain’t come here for the chit-chat

The shit got a hell of a kickback

I don’t give a fuck, so your face like a dutch, I’ma go ahead and split that

Niggas in the top 5, fuck is the list at?

Everybody die where they’re popping the Cris at

2005, gun in your mouth

Brain on your wall, you’re tryna get louder than I

Ghost smoke, I’m responsible for clouds in the sky

And you couldn’t find a nigga that’s wilder than I

The hook the same color as shit, nigga

Run up and hit niggas, Good bless whoever you’re with, nigga

Somebody gon' break down and cry

When they look at your face, how the four bullets break down your eye

I’m from the place where you fake got to die

Shit real when they catch you at the wheel and blow your face out your ride

If you forgot my name or my style

I’m the Ghost with the hornet flow with the corner smile

And the piece of shit car, with two 45's

‘Bout to rob everything, I’ll be gone for a while

They ain’t let you know I’m a grind ball whenever the time calls

I find y’all, I’m taking your spine off

Let’s be serious, dead serious

If you’re with the cops, how you’re letting your nine off?

Nigga

«Let me put you on something»

«You ain’t real»

«Know that we can go shot for shot

Verse for verse, worst gets worse, I’ll put you in a hearse»

«Just mad you will never be as nice as I am»

«Let me put you on something»

«You ain’t real»

«Know that we can go shot for shot

Verse for verse, worst gets worse»

In the pool full of sharks, I’m a synchronized swimmer

I know when to dive and when to come up for air, I’m a winner

Spin heavy rotation for the gangster nation

Got no time for wanksters and

If this is Hell, let me get my mail

And skip like bail before I tip my scale

See me, I’m a, so I can run fast

But I arch to let this gun blast ‘til your lungs crash

Which part of the God do you really want a part of?

The archer, the doctor, the father, or the martyr?

A wise man told me, «niggas in the streets don’t think

So think for ‘em, think harder, think smarter»

Leeches drink blood, dirty birds drink mud

Bum niggas drink suds, while studs drink water

Rewind this a few times and figure it out

If not, you might die with your dick in your mouth

Cocksucker

Man, I can’t stop this reign, I got to take the pain

And go against the grain ‘cause I’m a real man

‘Til I sleep in the grave, I got the blood of a slave

That’s running deep in my veins and I’ma do the damn

Think like a rebel, God and the Devil

Pulling at me from both sides and torn down the middle

I spit fire ‘til your block sizzle

If I don’t dig you, we gon' have a head on collision within the riddle

Gangsters respect silence, and the Gods respect science

But everybody respect violence

Sad game, we all tryna win it

Streets a dead end but we fall in love with it

And you could live and die in a New York minute

For entering the forbidden, you slept where you shitted, nigga

And life is only three guarantees

Taxes, death, and G.O.D

Yeah

Ha ha ha

Good looking Styles

Premo

My nigga

We gon' take this one from the block to the board room

You know

Pitch Black shit, nigga