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La The Darkman

3

[Intro: La The Darkman]

Yeah. Yeah. Yo. Yo.

Yo. Trapacanti. Yo.

[Chorus: La The Darkman]

When I walk these streets like bamboo I'm strapped

Get your brain tapped by fourty four caliber gats

It ain't like that cats gotta learn to relax

If I let the gun clap you have no wish you're on your ass

[La The Darkman]

If you see at cat without his vest hangin by his neck

Then La done it I'm tryin to see this benz six-hundred

With a fly bitch, a gat and cognac gettin blunted

Readin the tablet of my money from the kids that I fronted

You don't want it, shootin slugs outta an armored green lex

>From four pounds that fuck you up like a plane wreck

Don't gamble with a tech, car is quicker than the eye

My style, top secret like a Bosnian spy

Now Y, New York have you laced in chalk

The South Bronx, what you thought when we let are guns talk?

It's bloodsport, the Darkman call it like he sees

Been in buildings, doin eighty in a black m3

Medallion swingin a linx, costin bount ten g's

N.Y.C., where killas bust cops at me

[Chorus]

[La The Darkman]

New York ain't fuckin playas, we live gun sprayers

Movin crack frm the streets of Manhatt' to the Himalayans

Amadeus, why these Cali craps tryin to front?

Ass gotta cut ropes, tryin to bungee jump

Tight cunt, all white planes roll, we night creepers

in bubble coats, eight hundred beapers, force one sneakers

I stay fly, holdin it down for my block

What up ock? You could get a four-four shot

And don't think it can't happen cuz you on the T.V. rappin

I sneakin from B.X., B.K. and the Staten

Manhatten and Queens jookin kids for rings

New York, New York, the big city of dre