That Staten Island Shit Songtext / Lyric

Yo, Check it out man

All ya'll dudes, And all ya'll chicks

Pay that money at the door, Getting searched

Don't try to place the razor under the sneaker

Don't try to put that gun up in your wig yo

Cause I can see you, Diglah, Yo, Check it out

Up in the club like what

You know what it is man, Me and my whole clique, Yo



It's that club type shit, That make you nice

It's that Henny in that cup without that juice and ice

It's that gang banger shit, That make you bleed

This that Staten Island shit, Yo that smack a weave






Ayo, All in the club like what, Balling it up

Bebe Con Dunks, Strut when I step in the cut

Got my eyes on honeys and I'm feeling they stuff

Me and my man Luck Star yo we back in effect

Got them hard ass beats like we packing a tech

And everybody in the joint steady breaking they neck

Got thugs in the back mixing greens with wet

Moe spilling on my clothes and the party is set

I go for real all night til the sun start to rise

And I'm back on the block again flipping them pies

Me and my man Luck Star bagging all of the chicks

While they getting they eagle on yo we hop on they tits

Make em lean back some more on they can hop on the stick

And nobody can stop us, We caught in the mix

Got that fresh gear on like we caught in the flicks

Grab sweeties by the waistline, Rubbing our shit

Come on tell me that you like my moves

Go baby girl, Tell me how you like my grooves

Got baggy jeans on with my Timberland shoes

Ride honeys from the back and they loving the cruise

Step right to my business, Any shorty I choose

Put it all up in her dress with she shake in her shoes

Me and my man Luck Star stay thug'n em out

Kiss em while they on the dance floor ya'll

Straight bug'n em out

Got haters on the sideline, Cussing em out

Can't wait to get em home, Start bust'n em out

If they don't wanna act right, Start smut'n em out

Make em drink more Henny, Start gut'n em out

Rock a big fat chain, King Tut in the house

You can't knock Don, That's what the hustle about



I need a chick that can shake her ass, She know how to move

Got plenty of cash, Got the glow like Stacey Dash

In the buggy eyed Benz, Keep a glock in the stash

Rock Perry Ellis, Liz Claiborne slacks

With a body like Eve and her ass is fat

Always down for a nigga, Never giving it up

You know her stuff stay tight while we living it up

Take trips out to Paris yo, Sip'n it up

Dine at the I'll spots, Yo we tip'n it up

I take two or three chicks, Not giving a fuck

Call little clay waist, Start pack'n the truck

It's like that, Take a cruise and I'll be right back

All the chicks on the block wanna know where I'm at

I like em classy, All the way down to hood rat

With your Timberland boots on, Scarf to match

Army fatigue with your tight jeans, Face is means

Getting the type of chick tryna make my Queen

And it really don't matter to me

Cause I'm looking at your ass and that shit got fatter to me



Yo, Throw me that four-four

Booger Foot City