Pointing Fingers

Harlem World

[Huddy Combs]

Yo only got twelve bars so let me cut to the chase

Fuckin' wit' Stase I caught a buck in the face

I got the set me up everybody's drinkin' Henney

Kid named Timmy actin' friendly

Grabbed her by offending sure

Hurt cuz his game didn't work

He didn't know the alchohol's about to get him merc

He tried to french kiss her

Yo that's my man twin sister

Swung on him but he threw the toaste in my ear

I shoulda known he had people posted in here

So I waited 'till the coast was clear

And when he walked off, I put four in his rear, yeah, yeah

[Stase]

Yo, Hud is the type, give him an inch? He takin' a yard

Cuz see, he the type of cat that be thinkin' he hard

I told him if he gonna come, he got ta come by eight

But Hud don't never listen what I say

He always do it his way, instead of our way

That's why he always caught up in some damn foul play

Talkin' 'bout I said at nine, he killin' time

And he ain't checked the time on his wrist

He probably somewhere lying to a chick

Talkin' 'bout he rich, no, it ain't right

How he gon' leave my big brother Mase and jell overnight

He wouldn't sell us out or yell us out

But messin' wit' Hud, we ain't even get to bail him out

[Cardan]

I can't believe this nigga Hud tried to blame it on me

We on the I-95, three jars on my seat

I'm hopin' cops don't be prejudiced, if not we don't eat

You know what that mean, shut up Hud, keep drivin' the jeep

We got about ten miles, we don' did ten states

I shoulda stayed, knowing Hud? He gon' gas you to stay

I'm tellin' Hud, yo, pull over we ain't pissed since Penn State

The windows all foggy, plus we got temp plates

Now Hud steady streetin', not listenin' and yappin'

Smokin' Buddah straight from Cuba, 'bout to wish this ain't happen

I ain't tryin' to point no fingers bu