Too Late (feat. Jim Jones)

Dipset, Coke Boys

Something epic, you know

French, what up? BX, what up?

Harlem, what's bangin'?

Lost in the fog, these hollw hills

Blood burnning hot, nigth chills

So long and lost, are yo missing me?

Is too late to come on home?

Is too late to come on home?

Can the city forgive me? I hear its sad song

Through the fire, right through the fall

Big bag like Santa Claus

New sauce for the summer sauce

Marching band, we the drummer boys

And tell the crib I'm on the way back

Walked to my goals, took the plane back

And they prayed he ain't came back

All Rocky like A$AP

Indecisive, persuasive, face lift

Top down, ageless, timeless, stone age

Running out of patience, serving up the patients

No navigation, grind like bad brakes

Eating lobster with the crabs, that's the bad taste

Same niggas on the rise to find the bad days

Niggas on the rat race

Same niggas laughing at us started laughing with us

'Cause all the slammed doors turned to Lamb Porche

Is too late to come on home?

Is too late to come on home?

Can the city forgive me? I hear its sad song

Is too late to come on home

If nobody died then it's not a beef (Facts)

Contrary to all the lies, we all got beliefs (As-salamu Alaykum)

Still keep it in my rider in my boxer briefs (Loaded)

Hood nigga got them yachts docking by the beach (LA, what up?)

They still treat me like a god when I'm in the H (Harlem)

Cut lawyers that eat the charge like a dinner plate (Yanna)

We was just ducking them charges on the interstate (Facts)

Watch fifty that's an extra twenty large in the face

We both getting money, that is not the issue (You hear me?)

I'm trying to find my woosa like some chakra crystals (Pray for me)

Still hit a nigga with a tec but I ain't got a whistle

Slide through the wake, make sure your mom's a box of tissue (Kleenex)

We gon' hit whoever rocking with you (Who)

Catch your ass in Houston, shoot you, make sure you got rockets with you (Nero, what up?)

We come home and get a welcoming committee

When you fuck niggas you ain't welcomed in your city

Is too late to come on home?

Is too late to come on home?

Can the city forgive me? I hear its sad song

Is too late to come on home

If you tell me you get money then it shouldn't be able to fit in your pocket, nigga

My money can't fit in a bag so what type of bag you niggas is gettin'?

We drinking Ace and Ciroc all night, you heard

I been a bad boy, tell Diddy I been selling that Danity Kane to get that dirty money, you heard me money

French, what's up? Bx, Harlem