Artist: Hawk & Kryme
Album:  Exit 13
Song:   Mask Hoodies
Typed by: Cno Evil

[Tommy Whispers]
You fucking wit me? It's Whispy, crispy Bill Bixbies
Money green, money machine, and spit fifties
No Good Times, No Happy Days, this ain't the sixties
Three chickens giving me head, I call 'em six knees
Bitch please, adjusting your lips, to do that dick squeeze
Ripley's Believe it or Not, I'm out to grip g's
Swiss cheese, holding your head, I'm bout to flip these
Spread something like a disease, until you dead
Bad karma, that's what the man above said
Grab armor, don't let your friendship break bread
It'll starve ya, niggas a rob you out your threads
Burn you, the pillars pop you full of lead
That's why, I just went from my toes, moving my legs
It's the, code of the streets, the silence, they call me Whispers
Mister, prefer to be called before you kissed her
Barrel of the 12-gauge gun, long triggers

[Chorus 2X: Tommy Whispers]
Mask, hoodies, guns, gloves
Violent music, you pulling tricks in the club
Drugs, niggas get drunk become thugs
Now momma gotta cry, son took by a slug

[Tommy Whispers]
A cup of Henny got him thinking he Rambo wit a semi
Til them things backfire, and hit him, in his skelly
Deadly, the way that we live, dodging a Chevy
Narco's, they guns out drawn, they calling backup
Three Crown Victorias ready, here comes the black truck
Wit folders, we telling you dummy, to put the crack up
Got snatched up, knowing we got hammers in the park
We broke the balcony lights, why the fuck you think it's dark
It's war, it's beef, it ain't safe in the streets
No kid should be playing outside, go to sleep
It's dangerous, shut the block down for a week
Babe hoodies, cover our face, we on the creep
Bullies, we take ya lunch money, you can't eat
It's T.M.F., criminal ground, we run deep
Staten Isle, Stapleton live on Broad Street
Ten thirty four zip code, we toss heat

[Hook 3X: Tommy Whispers]
Staten, Island, niggas be wilding
And all we respect, is nothing but violence

[Chorus 2X]