Слова:
John Forte They Got Me

Because of all the things that I bring with me Only G O D could be a king to me And if the G O D be in me, then the king I be The microphone is granted

if Biggie and Pac never got shot And they both still was rulers of hip hop And Puffy and Suge was roommates from college And Big L never got found in

Aiyyo I'm standing at the bar with a, Cuban cigar Guajila, Guantanamera Hey yo John Forte, she's eyeing me from far Guan-tana-mera Guajila Guan-tana-

Christ John, Elijah, Jacob I make the kind of green a hustler dream Bustin' out the custard cream Viper Custom piped up with the mustard seams Clustered green Fort

on now This is what they wanna hear right here Come on, a come on now This is what they wanna hear right here Come on, a come on now This is what they

AKA John Mickens AKA John Mickens AKA John Mickens I'm the king I floss rings, the new John Mickens Uhh, I'm stayin' rich and keep the haters bitchin

What kind of dough they get, and how they handle they biz How they connect with Jamaician niggas who speak American And how they chains swung a medallion iced out pelicans And how they

, John, Elijah, Jacob I make the kind of green a hustler dream Bustin' out the custard cream Viper Custom piped up with the mustard seams Clustered green Fort

they want They want to sex me, they think I'm sexy I know what girls like, girls like me I know what boys like, I know what they want They want to sex