Люкс Вайб (Олдскул Восточного Побережья)

Silk shirts, imported cigars, smoking the best I got the family crest tattooed on my chest We operating in the shadows, making the calls Building empires behind impenetrable walls The competition trying to step, but they out of their league I see through the lies, the whispers and the intrigue From street corners to the boardroom, making the flip I keep a tight circle, operating a sinking ship? Never. We float above the water, commanding the fleet The undisputed kings of this cold concrete. We running the town, we wearing the crown Whenever we step in the room, it’s going down The luxury life, the hustle, the grind We leaving the amateurs thousands of miles behind. Yeah, respect the architect. Dining on lobster, counting paper in the back room If you cross the family, you sealing your own doom It ain’t about the violence, it’s about the respect And ensuring that the weekly revenues collect I orchestrate the movement like a maestro on the stage I turned a life of poverty into a golden age So raise a glass of champagne to the ones who survive It takes a cold, cold heart to keep the business alive. We running the town, we wearing the crown Whenever we step in the room, it’s going down The luxury life, the hustle, the grind We leaving the amateurs thousands of miles behind.