| Philthy rock the jewelry with the clear stones |
| Made a million dollars off this flip phone |
| Spent a hunnid thousand on my wrist alone |
| Baccarat, baby, that's my wrist cologne |
| I be out of town while my bitch at home |
| Nigga, she be out of town while you at home |
| Jordan 3s on my feet, bitch, these deadstock |
| Past ten years, had the rap game in a headlock |
| Baby, these just singles in my head, these ain't dreadlocks |
| Baby, these ain't singles, these is hunnids, what that head 'bout? |
| Free all my niggas in the state and the feds locked |
| I was in the state for a Glock, the feds for a chop |
| Thick white bitch, but her Rollie got a black face |
| Crazy I'm in first, but I started up in last place |
| Three hunnid thousand to my lawyer for my last case |
| Million-dollar mansions, new foreigns, Versace ashtrays |
| Rest in peace to all the fallen soldiers that done passed away |
| Still got love for Haze Money, Dex, Wiz, and lil' Trey |
| (Uh, uh, uh, uh, Money, uh, lil' Trey) |
| (Still got love for uh, uh, uh, uh, and lil' Trey) |
|
| I can brag on your bitch |
| Anything else not my job |
| I can pull up in foreigns |
| But anything else is not my job |
| I can front you some P's |
| But anything else is not my job |
| I can bust down a Rollie |
| But anything else is not my job |
|
| (Bitch asked me to go with her to the Dior store) |
| (Looked at her and said, "No, siree, whore") |
| (That's not my job, I don't do that) |
| (I'm a pimp's last rapper, thought you knew that) |
| Ayy, where your dude at? Stop servin' the news |
| How you came with a hunnid thousand when you was ready to chew? |
| Ooh, bitch (Bitch), think I'm not myself |
| Probably hit the lot, bitch, and caught myself |
|
| Bitch, probably caught myself, man, ayy, it's Philthy, ho |
| Rest in peace to Mac Dre, rest in peace to the Jack, nigga, heart of the hood |
| Seminary, it's Philthy |
| (Funk or Die) |
|