[Hook: Ishmael Butler, Geechi]

Don't give me your swing

I got mines and that's the thing

Blahzay blahzay blahzay who name bell rings

Don't give me your swing

I got mine and that's the thing

Blahzay blahzay blahzay who names bell ring

[Verse 1: Geechi Suede]

Now photograph the stash

To the alley, Von and Henny splash

Tryin' not to crash

Swervin', got the la-la on the dash

Gettin' bent up in the armored truck

Stuck him for his glam, shit is candy yams

Now we movin' on to ancient lands

And using cyber vision for the Valentino Garavani

Fuck Armani butter, we above these climbs

Heist the harbors, word to God, fathers getting bleed

Tasting on some 'juana down in Venice

Tellin' sire 'bout my alley villain ways

That's how it was, cuz

Now they got us blammin' at the fuzz

It's all gun and poses, on a bed of roses gettin' drunk

Wrap him in a rug, leave him on the roof too, he stink

Hit the pool hall, flare the Calico and watch 'em blink

Movin' on Picasso, painting my portraits in condos

'Cause when the Lo blows, only the Lo knows the no-no's

[Hook: Ishmael Butler, Geechi]

Hey, hey, don't give me your swing

I got mines and that's the thing

Blahzay blahzay blahzay who name bell rings

Don't give me your swing

I got mine and that's the thing

Blahzay blahzay blahzay who names bell ring

[Verse 2: Ishmael Butler]

(Check this...)

I don't hate players, I'm from the Crown rhyme sayers

Whatever, kid – sayers get down with no delaying

I play my cards shark style, kings and aces

Welcome to New York, the illest of all places

I never bleed, even through this plaza of greed

You got the rarest, true ain't game in your world

Not them Forrest Gump niggas with shades and S-curls (Uh!)

I tilt my crown fly, I'm trying to angle you, girl

The me and you alliance – is no doubt the fly science

We'll prosecute the phony star picks with our style

The million dollar necks, word – go head, crack a smile

My name is Ish and that's something even in this dish

Of pimps, players, hustlers, and killers, and they wish

You're pretty to me, put me in your frame

Your complex attitude intrigue me – stronger than blow

You know, we could play the scenes like Pacino and Pfeiffer

My queen will shine on Brinks, three karats and brighter

Finesse in foreign fabrics, Chris C.S. tighter

Them clown kids you dealt never belt

I came around swift and got felt

They champagne brand name style got milked

My man Killah Jules put me close to these jewels

Thats dropped in the lesson, sent to crush fools (Crush 'em... peace)

(Lessons...)

[Hook: Ishmael Butler]

Yo yo, dont give me your swing

I got mines and thats the thing

It's not your swing

Don't give me your swing

It's mines and thats the thing

So all that blahzay blahzay blahzay who name bell rings

All that blahzay blahzay blah who name bell rings

[Outro: Geechi]

Yeah... yeah...

What?

Hold up... yo... that blahzah blahzay blah...