[Verse 1] (K Ben Rose)
Long Live Stack all he wanted was our city on the map
The drop top mazi
All he wanted was the best for us
I wish we could of did a session before he past
God bless his soul I have a couple question for him
Like how it feel to make it out the rock?
How you go from corporate meetings
And bounce right back to that street shit on the block?
How do I bring the rock glory?
Cause now or days it’s too much beefing over territory
Premature articulation this shit is crazy
This manifesto is to wake niggas up
Lets come together far rock and shake niggas up
Quit the bs
Find your talents
Lose the choppers
Could be a astronaut
Ball player or a doctor
Don’t have to make no whoppers
You have options
Don’t let the masquerade drag you in
It’s our turn like pages in the wind
Six borough we thorough
Just always remember
Get on your grind cause the projects is a project
That will never be finished
[Chorus]
Long Live Stack (x8)
[Verse 2] (K Ben Rose)
Leather jacket like girl with dragon tattoo
Who he think he is?
Fonzi hoe that’s who
Yeah I’m that cool
My chicks be fine
Other niggas chicks want to kick it
Like I’m wearing a kick me sign
But I’m just tryna bring heaven on earth
Like Ricky tan up in heaven on earth
Fighting off all these devils on earth
K Ben Rose throwing pedals at the hearse
Cause i'm killing these rappers
Keep it real no four flush
Right now i'm on the road no tour bus
Till we throwing paper Dunder Mifflin
In the office
Till we leaders of the corporate
Man i'm out dawg i'm off this
I rail grind
Jail bars making your side of the scale rise
On your block like the mail guy
He ain't messing with me tried to tell guy
I fell off wasn’t good with timing
I’m just tryna make gold out the silver lining
Rather die real then be living phony
Reppin NY like Prigioni
Never leave though I ain't Dan Antoni
Nah
[Chorus #2]
Go hard or go home
And I ain't going home (X3)
[Verse 3] (Porche Boxx)
Im fresh off the hi haters
Hi haters
The outfit is on sky scrappers
For more paper
Shook the town up a couple disses
But nothing come in between me and the business
See I got it clicking
The loud and the sour
Doing coke numbers
Can’t even tell you my pops secret it’s so butter
Huh swag talking read the guidelines
I’m just limping like Kobe I got the foul lines
Huh I’m on my worst behavior
They be talking like I’m hip hop’s savior
Or maybe too big for my britches I’m just kidding
I know you making that face like no no no no he didn’t
Bruce Wayne when the cape is off
Slap the camera man like Yeezy
Just in case you thought he was soft
Felony to give I’m on my bullshit
I could do a stretch and come back
Talking on pulpits
And collect my offering
Long as I got a suit and tie
I’m sharp like the coffin
Fresh to death like junebug with the chains on
These fucking kilos on my neck I need a green card