Styles P
Harlem
[Verse 1: Puff Daddy]
King of New York
John Gotti issues
Chanel sneakers
Maserati issues
You coming to party
Bring those Bugattis with you
Let's hop on this jet and go to Marnie Crystal
But bring that silk suit from Armani with you
You can roll with money making
There's an army with you
But back in the states
On 8th when you come through
N***a, bring a mufuckin phone
With you I'm talking whips
I'm talking bitches
You can see the picture
You ain't gotta take the picture
Spend the money n***a
N***a you can't take it with ya
They hatin' on ya
Cause they can't make it with ya
So they stand there and they try to fake it with ya
No rings, actin' like the Bulls and the Lakers with ya
Go ahead n***a, get some paper with ya
Forty mules and a acre with ya
MSG front row, MGM front row
All I do is get bitches, get money, want more
I'mma make it with ya, let that ciroc flow
[Break]
Flow, flow, flow
Turn up, turn up, turn up

[Verse 2: Puff Daddy]
Two in the morning, flying through Harlem
I'm the flyest n***a in Harlem
I ain't got no problem with money, money's a problem
Two in the morning, flying through Harlem
I'm the flyest n***a in Harlem
I ain't got no problem with money, money's a problem
N***as get your fam kidnapped, get you robbed
Cross me, see heaven
I'm flying down seventh in a seventh
Hear my name when you hit 111th
Cross 110th street, they make legend
A Money Making Mitch reincarnated
Money making bitches in the condo and they all naked

[Verse 3: Gizzle]
The room reek the reefer
Don't mind her, she's a screamer
Two nineteens are in the ether
Careful with you treatment, she needs time to get decent
I'm feeling so Mitchy, please baby, no hickies
Today's without that good
She's so bitchy
Our hearts are not here, her words are unclear
She's thumpin' down there
You about to start love trippin', you sex kitten
Ain't nobody ever had it this juicy since Biggie
I know you wanna see world, girl I'm big Billy
And I've been to cities just to eat Denny's, I'm really different
Are you aware that there's more than six senses?
All the bottles are empty, this clear was just kicked into high gear
I double tap to best friend in real life n***a
Forever is what it feels like
Kobe playing with Mike