HARLEM KNIGHTS

Illinformed, Wish Master, Josiah Hotwire

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Lyrics

Uh Crazy Woo Wish Master We're going up Hotwire Crazy Ill Informed The god Yeah Wish Master, Ill Informed, Hotwire You really ready? Once the bros hear this track, the streets be in a frenzy My finger cross the beam on my neck, it cost a Benji Want the yang, dollar, pounds, euros and the Benjis Been through hell and back, but still heaven sent me That's right Living on borrowed time When I'm done, the reaper get me My heart pain leaked on the strings and I got plenty The pounds look after their self, just watch the pennies We don't do envy and hate 'cause that's a disease My co-D and shooter is a killer, he came from Belize Balaclava jumpsuit, wintertime, but no skis They ain't wrapped up 'cause it's cold, it's 'cause they hold heat Dreams worth your soul to Satan, then you sold cheap Worth unlimited entities means I can't be bought It means I can't be sold You sold yourself for some silver when you worth the gold So Wish, I got them Woo I'm one with the streets, the streets embody me It don't matter if you a Blood or Crip, still follow me Follow me Gangsters acknowledge me, we got street college degrees Nobody's bulletproof, stupid Every man bleeds So I'd rather put on the little homies that be in need Because everywhere I see is greed and bodies swinging from A tree in the land of the free where nobody's mentally free Where I reside, we buying guns like it's white tees It don't matter if you a drill rapper or hyphy, it don't matter Just keep your head on a swivel and do it like my Nike I cut off the snake trying to indict me, I'm such a Pisces She want to lick me like a Icee, rocking my sheisty Ghetto gorgeousness, bump to you by the unfortunates Let's have a food fight in the record label with the corporates They ain't got shit to talk about, that's why we here talking shit Real hip hop, pumping that crack Watch me make a flip like Max Whitlock I got the za in a Ziploc The pack drop, all the fiends open like pairs of flip-flops My Glock scratch like a disc shot, shoot a clip like Albert Hitchcock before they wrap your body like a gift shop That boy pull strings till the guitar pops These cardiac raps will make your heart stop It's Hotwire Wish Master Ill Informed We ain't your norm Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh We got another body bag Oh It's that Harlem St Mark's type shit Y'all know the vibes Fuck outta here