| Today's game |
| The Miami Heat |
| Versus |
| Your New York Knicks |
|
| NBA leathers on NBC (Uh-huh), Bakalava (It's me) |
| The motherfuckin' MVP of the league (It's me) |
| I leave the league and talkin' about the same German machine (That same shit) |
| Fifteen years earnin' its key (M5), revenge is sweet |
| For now, I'll turn the other cheeko |
| I push the ball across the line and take off from the free-throw (Take off) |
| Get splashed, you'll get a mouth full of seafoam (Splashed) |
| It's not my fault (It's not my fault) that I've been blessed with the cheat code |
| Salon-quality hair and a voice like Meat Loaf (Beautiful fuckin' voice) |
| I do from the speedboat, disappear into the sun just like Eagle (Oh) |
| Some fiends like the pipe, some like the needle |
| I happen to love Jimmy (I love you) but some like the Beatles (I love him) |
| And you can tell from my demeanor, I'm a good dancer (Yup) |
| And the glass is filled with Christian cheetah (Yup) |
| I learned to fuck to songs written by Missy Misdemeanor (Yup) |
| In every life I've known, believe I've been a mystic creature (Yup) |
| You'll never catch me in the (Never, motherfucker) |
| Pass me the soccer ball, I'm like Zizou |
| Baklava, bitch |
| I cruise around Queens on the sea doo |
| Lookin' like RoboCop the reboot (Uh), '97 X-Men t-shirt (Uh) |
| I'll be in that Jeep Grand Cherokee 'til I see the dirt (Uh) |
| I know my flesh gone but my soul never leaves the turf (Uh) |
| Say "Baklava" three times in the mirror to release the curse |
|
| (Baklava, Baklava, Baklava) |
| Uh |
|
| I get emotional when the painting's finished (Damn) |
| Rap game's a madhouse, it's a crazy business (Bunch of weirdos) |
| I emerge through a shadow, you see a shady image |
| 450 Benz, Mercedes vinted |
| The hard shell top, you gotta detach by hand, pass my pen (Give me the sauce |
| pen) |
| Like granny's cooking, I made everything from scratch by hand |
| It's sizzlin' hot, you play the block, you may get snatched by a van (Here it |
| comes, woop, woop) |
| Baloney sandwiches in the central bookin', defence I'm hookin' |
| Stirrin' up the pot, open the vents, I'm cookin' (Yo, crack the window) |
| Cash out a parlay, met the bookmaker |
| Bruno my foot stays in (Slippin') |
| Scribble my notes 'til I fill up all the book pages |
| They're gonna have to write about me, nobody ever stretch it this long |
| (Impossible) |
| He made the coin disappear, the whole time, it was kept in his palm (Impossible) |
| If money makes a human attractive then I'm a sex symbol (I'm gorgeous) |
| One half of my body is hangin' out of the 'Vette window (Aye) |
| Don't get me mixed up with a prototype version (Nah) |
| Every establishment that I frequently visit, I know the right person (I know |
| people) |
| Before you come at me, I strike first, cut off your power |
| You'll probably need to check and see if your lights workin' (What the fuck is |
| goin' on here?) |
| Mozzarella over sliced turkey (I know) |
|