[ Featuring Mafia Double Dee, Conductor Williams ]
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
