Humble Soles, DJ Clue?, Tyre Hakim, Huey V, Shawn Smith - Wild West Lyrics

World famous DJ Clue, Desert Storm, baby
Roc Nation
You know what we do, right?
We set trends (yeah)
We set the tone (oh, yeah)
Fuck with it (you know)
Super engineer, Duro (yeah)
Skame Dolla, what up?
Yeah

Ayy, yo, best rapper, sharpshooter, ex-trapper (what's going?, mm-hmm)
Check casher, tuck chains, we neck snatchers
Lowkey, I'm less flashy, more active (woo-woo)
And my name ring bells like the door cameras (ha)
I was plotting on a lick to get my money right (yeah)
I know I can't tell you shit 'cause you the funny type (shh, gah)
My mama told me go get what you want in life (yeah)
So I'm getting to that money every fuckin' night (for real)
Started from the bottom now we here, I'm not leaving (I'm not leaving)
I ain't had to do it but I did, I got my reasons (I got my reasons)
By any means, that mean as long as I'm breathing (breathing, as long as I'm breathing)
I'm on it every minute, every hour, any season (any season)
Live from the gutter, so I'm ridin' with a cutter (woo-woo)
My driver with the shits, he like Batman butler
We pull up, shut shit down
Hands up, get down (bah, bah)
Take out a heavy weight with six rounds (yeah, bah, bah, bah-bah)

Yeah, huh, been running laps around these rap niggas
There's pressure on me, .40 blow, feel like a MAC hit him
Plug walk, I'ma go get it 'fore I ask a nigga
She just ask about me, did this shit and I'm still active with it
I call up Tyre like, "What's good?" when I'm in traffic with it
You need a couple P's and I'm the plug, I'll put a battery in 'em
Take a nigga Pumas off his feet and kick his ass with them
Then boot it up, thuggin' since a baby
Grandma knew I was a problem when they motherfucking raised me
Came up from public housing, barred the windows, now I raise 'em
Slave to these chains, but the chain game made me
Cocaine white, but the fentanyl gravy
Sacrifices, what you know about them? Can you make one?
Made man, but I got gravediggers in my Greyhound
Space shooter, if I don't see a lane then I create one
Mad Max, if that boy ain't a shooter, I can make him one
Sink or swim, for real (yeah)

Nigga ask for CEO, he in the coupe with Dae (he in the coupe with Dae)
Colin Farrell, should I make him hit the booth then pay? (Hit the booth, then pay)
Greedy me, I got the money and the food with Jay (number one)
I ain't scared to shoot, but me and Ben ain't in the mood to play (bah)
Simmons all on my toes, I swap them out the Puma way (for real)
Plus I get a lot of hats off from what I do on Sway (bah)
Put the call away for this label shit, making music play (for real)
City where you keep the auto on you, I'm a tune away (fully tuned)
Looking to achieve whatever (yeah)
Get your mikes jacked, smooth criminals all lean together (all lean together)
Stand up niggas tryna weigh in on our keen endeavors (our keen endeavors)
Young sink or swim, we the scuba divers
Ain't waiting on these fuckers to utilize us (for real)
Cops gon' scrutinize us, it's better not to talk like Uber drivers (shh)
Hit the Coast, I'm out Cali' reppin' (yeah)
First footprints in this shit, y'all must not be stepping (for real)
I see what you got, it's copy, blessings, they sloppy seconds (yeah)