Story - The Lox

Somebody slipped me a mickey

I’m dustin' my Raucomb

Can’t see straight and I can’t feel my jawbone

Can’t find my phone so I can’t even call home

Damn

Heard a nigga said he was buggin'

Where Sheek, Louch or Jadakiss or cousin?

Which one of them niggas could come get him?

'Cause homie set him up and you know that he gone wet 'em

Don’t know where I’m at or why I’m there

Or what the fuck I was doin', my memory is ruined

If I blacked out that seems awkward

I feel nauseous, I’m usually so cautious

Searchin' for somethin' that’s familiar

But then I smell haze from Vermilyea

I guess I’m on Dyckman in the Heights

Then I heard nut-cracker and Vicodin and Ice

It was the plug’s right hand

Fuckin' gun butt, woke up in the big white van

Y’all niggas just kidnapped the kid?

He told me, «Hell yeah, boy, you you know what it is

I know where you live, I’ma bring you to the crib

If you don’t get the money up, Imma kill your kids»

Told him, «nigga I just moved»

He hit me with the gun again, I know it’s gone bruise

Damn, came in the house, took of my shoes

Put my feet up, grabbed the remote, turned on the news

Cheese Doodles, Ramen Noodles, Toaster Strudels

I’m high, nigga 'bout to make pancakes

Or should I just go to sleep until Styles come?

He takin' too long we supposed to do a juice bar run

Then my phone rang like yo we got your man (Who this)

I hang up like this stupid bitch playin' again

Then he hit me with a picture of SP

I’m sayin' to myself, «What kidnapper gone text me?»

Fuck outta here, LOL, FOH

Then he send another picture with a gun on his waist

I’m like, oh shit, I need more liquor

I got money and everythin' don’t touch my nigga

Where we meetin' at?

I’m comin' alone, grab my chrome

Then I hit my nigga Kiss on the phone

Ayo dog, it’s funky out this bitch

It’s some coward niggas tryin' to get rich

I swear to God Imma leave these niggas right in the ditch

He like (Yo, chil, chill, try to relax, I know you ready to go to war)

I’m like nigga that’s facts

But if you come around the back, silencers on

And put a couple in the air, these niggas is gone

I grabbed the 44 long, they think somethin' is sweet

Box of shells already had the pump in the jeep

Closed casket, I ain’t leavin' nothin' to see

Tryna figure out who these niggas fuckin' with P

They probably seen him makin' a bet, puttin' it in

We got family on Sherman, it wouldn’t be them

Like the line between love and hate, couldn’t be thin

They don’t rock like that or we wouldn’t be friends

Ready to dump on sight in front of the law

I met Louch on Academy in front of the stall

Was the call blocked or did they leave a number to call?

(We like nah, son, private, hop in, drive it

Anythin' we ever been through we survived it, you know that, nigga)

Real talk I just hope they don’t try shit

Before we get to em or somebody gotta die quick

Shit, I was lost for a second

I snapped right back when we crossed 207th

Thinkin' to myself should’ve bought the MAC-11

Seen a white van followin' the Porsche in the seven

Damn maybe I’m just illin'

The van made a right, BM in the Porsche trailed 'em

We was two cars back

They went through the light and pulled over by a buildin'

Still no signs of the ghost

We kept our eyes on 'em, but we didn’t play em close

Seen the crib that they went in

Cocked my shit, Louch slipped another clip in

Knocked on the door with the hammers

They all lookin' at the playback on the cameras

Lucky we ain’t squeeze off the weapons

Part of a short film that P was directin'

Yeah, we needed to get it without rushin'

We set it up right the white van was production

We caught y’all both in rare form

We gotta shoot shit like this from here on

Then we got high and bent

And laughed it off

Yeah, and that’s how that went, word

This nigga P

He got me and Louch ridin' all around Washington Heights

With muthafuckin' pumps, 44 longs, Desert Eagles

All kind of shit that get you 100 years

Lookin' for this nigga in one of these buildings

And the whole time he tapin' this shit

For him and-

Shootin' a sort film him and Poos wrote

This niggas the illest yo

Anyway after we calmed down

The Dominican niggas gave us a couple ounces

We bought a couple bottles

We got high and drunk

And we laughed that shit off while them niggas was editin' that shit

This nigga’s crazy yo!