June Luva Live in the Basement lyrics

[Intro: June Luva]
One two, and it goes a little something...
Where Stapleton at? Where Stapleton at?
Where Stapleton at? Where Stapleton at?
Where Stapleton at? Aight, yo, any time you ready dog
Check it, yo

[June Luva]
I got twenty bricks of ki's, about forty
Pounds of weed, freezer full of angel dust, guard my six
Never in, you can't touch my riches
Even if you had Roc-A-Fella or them Cash Money figures
Mr. Jux, the hungriest, the grungiest
On grot, catch me in the streets with two glocks
That's how I caught them crack spots
I told big man on campus, to bounce 'fore I blam this
Blow, what happened to that boy?
He didn't listen so I had to destroy
He must of thought I was a breakable toy
I am a gangsta, son, the real McCoy
Ain't nothing fake about me, ask niggas, man
I blast niggas, I don't play fair, I bring it to ya back, niggas
Run up on you while you ain't looking

My hollow points'll have your insides cooking and I'm repping Wu
Watch your mouth, I'm Staten Island's poster child
Now everybody wanna sign me now
Look at them big trucks behind me now
Fucking with my paper, that's how you get found
What, New York stunner
They call me Mr. Jux, I'm the cocaine runner
Move work from state to state in a Hummer
Bout to cop a mansion, baby, first thing summer
Believe me, them bitches freeze when I drive by
Them 24's is to ya knees, look papa
Hey wait a minute, mama
After I cop you a drink, you gots to buy me a drink
I'm trying to take turns at the bar, what you think?
Cuz you got on a chinchilla mink
That you can walk around like your shit don't stink?
Ah nah, these hoes got the game twisted
I ain't no muthafucking Pillsbury dough biscuit
I'm usually on some pimp shit
Yo, pass me the powder, I'mma smack the shit out her