Pointing Fingers - Harlem World

[Huddy Combs] 
Yo  only got twelve bars so let me cut to the chase 
Fuckin' wit' Stase  I caught a buck in the face 
I got the set me up  everybody's drinkin' Henney 
Kid named Timmy actin' friendly 
Grabbed her by offending  sure 
Hurt cuz his game didn't work 
He didn't know the alchohol's about to get him merc 
He tried to french kiss her 
Yo  that's my man twin sister 
Swung on him  but he threw the toaste in my ear 
I shoulda known he had people posted in here 
So I waited 'till the coast was clear 
And when he walked off, I put four in his rear, yeah, yeah 
[Stase] 
Yo, Hud is the type, give him an inch? He takin' a yard 
Cuz see, he the type of cat that be thinkin' he hard 
I told him if he gonna come, he got ta come by eight 
But Hud don't never listen what I say 
He always do it his way, instead of our way 
That's why he always caught up in some damn foul play 
Talkin' 'bout I said at nine, he killin' time 
And he ain't checked the time on his wrist 
He probably somewhere lying to a chick 
Talkin' 'bout he rich, no, it ain't right 
How he gon' leave my big brother Mase and jell overnight 
He wouldn't sell us out or yell us out 
But messin' wit' Hud, we ain't even get to bail him out 
[Cardan] 
I can't believe this nigga Hud tried to blame it on me 
We on the I-95, three jars on my seat 
I'm hopin' cops don't be prejudiced, if not we don't eat 
You know what that mean, shut up Hud, keep drivin' the jeep 
We got about ten miles, we don' did ten states 
I shoulda stayed, knowing Hud? He gon' gas you to stay 
I'm tellin' Hud, yo, pull over we ain't pissed since Penn State 
The windows all foggy, plus we got temp plates 
Now Hud steady streetin', not listenin' and yappin' 
Smokin' Buddah straight from Cuba, 'bout to wish this ain't happen 
I ain't tryin' to point no fingers bu