Hiram Torres – At The Met

Letra “Hiram Torres – At The Met” Official Lyrics


Hahahaha, yeah
*Lighter flicks*
*Hits pipe*
Aye, ha, uh
Man, this shit is crazy
Yeah, aye

Verse 1

I just pulled up at the Met, I smell like blu cheese
Dali on my left, inspiration for my movies
Just the other day, I was chillin with my Droogies
Cause I know they still gone be here when I get that two seat
Now I’m in New York, finally I feel Atlantic breeze
It’s a jolt I’ve never felt, got me goin’ ODB
Shimmy shimmy cocoa bop
Ballin at Nintendo shop
Legally I smoke the crop
Out here it’s still fuck the cops
Yo’ bitch finna slop the top
Got a problem grab a mop
My hands are free in fifty states today’s the day I make you drop
Higher than that skyscraper that I’m lookin at
I’m dressed way better than your mans that’s a fact

Verse 2

Everywhere I go I bring the burner pipe
Smokin’ on the streets, right under bright city light
Pack it fat, got a sack I need gone before my flight back
I’m in Central Park, starin’ at the reservoir
I be on my art of war, livin’ past twenty-four
I’m too smart to spend a single dollar at a Gucci store (Never)
Still lookin fresh, got my style from the best
This how we do it in the west (Westside)


When I hit the stage I need a moshpit
When I’m in Manhattan only thing I do is boss shit
All my bitches Pam Grier, not Farrah Fawcett
If yo’ bitch is basic, you should let me sauce it

Verse 3

All of these bitches be in the same clothes
What is the difference a hoe is a hoe
All of these rappers be trash at they shows
Not even rappin’, that shit is not pro
When I’m on stage imma need it to go
Show all these children who God in this hoe
Man on the beat is the same on the flow
When I’m on stage imma need it to go (Go)


Can I talk my shit?
Can I talk my shit?
They not ready for this
Motherfuckas been killin’ it, and killin’ it, and killin’ it, and killin’ it
Oh (Oh)
Oh (Oh)
Aye (Oh)
Huh (Oh)
*Agressive inaudible chanting*

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