| I went through with the plan, now the man sendin’me grams,
|
| My coke organization still infestin’the land,
|
| No joke, built my Mama an estate in the Bahamas,
|
| Crops of marijuana protected by Big Timers,
|
| Hand, full of ice, it’s gangsta’s paradise,
|
| Expensive merchandise, I had to sacrifice for the glamourous life,
|
| Don P. for breakfast, Benz, stretches, and Lexus,
|
| Distribution of coke from Louisiana to Texas,
|
| Some fabricated, but fascinated by the way that I made it,
|
| Now my name is implicated with the greatest
|
| Wearin’the latest, leather fatigues and B.B.H.,
|
| Brand new Mercedes, parked in front of my new estate,
|
| Twelve o’clock we gave him, caviar, is what we ate,
|
| Party with killas, paraphrenalia full of projects,
|
| Dope snorters or prospects, the rob your shop necks,
|
| But I gets pissed and send hits, don’t fuck with my shit
|
| Wig split, the heel, whoever he roll with,
|
| Admit it, you did it, tongue too tied? |
| Well say somethin'
|
| Nine’s bustin', bringin’your platoon to destruction,
|
| Continue to hustlin', givin’up nothin’where the dope at?
|
| Crackers can get the Bauds at, because I’m pro Black,
|
| Think I’m a foreigner, he wasn’t holdin’up his side of his deal,
|
| Alien gotta be killed, sent to the coroner,
|
| I’m sure he would have gone before the judge
|
| With somethin’concrete, to send me, cuz
|
| He was holdin’a grudge, fuckin’over a thug,
|
| Told my bitch I want him dead,
|
| Bring me his head, fill him with lead,
|
| Heard what I said? |
| Don’t betray me,
|
| I’ll put you on the streets and make you weak,
|
| With carrots and stones up on fingers and your teeth,
|
| And built you a home next to the beach,
|
| And luxury cars we creep
|
| Here’s the nine, I don’t have time, make it discreet
|
| Money on the couch, nigga
|
| Gimme everything, I’ll pay your house, nigga
|
| Shut’cha mouth, nigga
|
| Put the money on the couch, nigga
|
| Gimme everything, I’ll pay your house, nigga
|
| Shut’cha mouth, nigga
|
| Put the money on the couch shut’cha mouth, nigga
|
| Second Verse:
|
| I know that my cousin Lil’Kerzaw,
|
| He sold up outta his backyard,
|
| And sold up shit, from the seventeen all the way up to the Ninth Ward,
|
| You know he rolls up in the caddy,
|
| It’s about that time to go roasts and vogue,
|
| I’ma go on the passenger side, fuckin’with every last hoe,
|
| Nigga Russ was up in that car shop,
|
| Ready to get all the seats fixed,
|
| Let me go scope me a kneefit, so I can go out to the Freaknik,
|
| Shit, I’m the lyrical genius,
|
| Drop down on your knees to the penis,
|
| The nigga be talkin’the shit about my family, but I never did seen it
|
| I’m larger than large, if you came home with two heroin charges,
|
| And I still got somethin’stashed in the garages,
|
| Y’all is petty, it’s gone take two to fill my stamina,
|
| When I pass the camera, flash, fuck the amateurs,
|
| Ya better be top notch, or I’ma cock my rhyme glock,
|
| To wound ya, and paint your death with my autograph on your tumor,
|
| Third Verse:
|
| I’m straight from the ghetto, the Mac they make the foes shake,
|
| Then I left that spot and I went to the T, where the triflin’hoes play,
|
| They comin’to me and, they blowin’that funky fire,
|
| I’m grabbin’a beer and, them blunts be gettin’me higher,
|
| Due to my clique I walked to the front door,
|
| Hope it ain’t them po-po's,
|
| I looked through the blinds, it went through my mind,
|
| What I have to run for?,
|
| Nobody would want to test me,
|
| Especially comin’to arrest me,
|
| Old body and soul, it’s a must I leave you cold,
|
| Keep it chilly chilly, when I’m jigglin’jigglin’money,
|
| Some niggas say okay, but you can say no way,
|
| I’m drinkin’for honey,
|
| If I wouldn’t be kickin’these rhymes so funky,
|
| You and your crew would never have bought my shit like junkies,
|
| A part of a ki is all that I need,
|
| To get on my feet, up outta the weed,
|
| The capital C, I do it for weed, and even a G for slangin’them kis,
|
| I’m puttin’in it your face, Juvenile lookin’for a bitch now,
|
| Don’t have no time for no foreplay, I’m simply gonna lay this dick down
|
| Niggas be comin’with dope lines,
|
| Gimme the chance I’ma flow mine,
|
| I’m tearin’this bitch up in no time,
|
| No fuckin’ya up cuz you know I’m,
|
| Funky like a club that’s filled up with fat men fartin',
|
| And never a bad thought in my mind, cuz I’m steadily plottin' |