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