Songtext Cross the border (remix) Philly'S Most Wanted

Cross the border (remix)

(Chorus)you want me to cross the border? well come on babyyou want me to cross the border?well come on baby(Boobonic)
They call me A.J., A.K.A.
Ant Jonesand aye, the AK tear bones, Homesseldomely ever talk over cell phonesor chase dudes, I choke 'em like bass tubesevery whip, every bitch, every leather coatsince '88 to right now I was never broke back then I was V'd up with a nut cup, problem with the price nigga? see Buck never waitin' in line nigga, I bumppay everybody shit just to get to the frontyoung, did I mention Twenty One?with more houses that sell than Century Twenty Onecops respect 'cause they know we bigand ain't lock us up for bodies that they know we did that M shit clean you out like ammoniaimagine '89 fuckin' Appolonia.(Clipse)Last name Robinson, first name StacyI was gettin' Cagney high and gettin' head from Lacy'88 graffiti, chicks was still masin'I was a Millionaire when Rick James was freebasin'I paved the way, showed ballers how to ride today
I chopped the roof off my ride that dayimagine all the hate I made?used to have to pull my sun visor down for shade on cloudy daysthey would shoot up my cars
I would just slide back through with new rims and a paint job flamboyant like a gold One-Ninetywith a side panel reading, I want you to find mec'mon, I sold that Night Rider, and it came with a Kitwhen you put the shit in the needle and hit it, that was it Ron..ahem...Heroin, excuse me ya'llI'm from Virginia where the Southern drawdon't mind me...(
Mr.
Mister)See, it's lil' Bucky, my jewels? huskyconnects like broads, I fuck 'em but they don't fuck mewho owe me money in the streets? try to duck mewigs get split like bananas, trust me keep it butter, call me Land 'O Lakesgot more crack on the streets than Cali after earthquakes
Southwest gon' vouch for this our teams trade off nicks (Knicks) like Ewing and the draft pick easy money, that was all in Eighty-Ninelocked down every block, made all gravy mine
Gucci slides cost Three-Twenty-FiveI, pulled up in the Three-Twenty-Five I and A.J.
bought a Joe-Paul-Marysilk shirts, his gators was Blueberryand this the shit OG's used to do scoop every young boy and treat 'em to City Blue.(Fabolous)It's like ya'll don't know beatbox, I was O.T.
at Twelvegiven a half at Six, an O.Z.
at Twelveain't nobody come near the minorthat was runnin' spots in both North and South Carolina by Ninety I was already a crack legendpullin' up a year early in a brown Ac LegendI ain't cop from Uptown, I re'd by the shoresand I could go a month straight in Fila Valoresthe way I used to equip with my features
I was comin' to Junior High School in better whips than the teachers'bout my paper, I ain't even think 'bout the chicksbut I kept everything Gucci from my link to my kicksbeatbox Mike, I learned to cook as a childgot knocked for attempt, the best lawyers looked at my trial got Five at Eighteen, I took it and smiled came home in Ninety-Two and flooded Brooklyn with valvesI'm back...(
Chorus)