| Yo, lets pull out the 750 get the semi live |
| My bitch is twenty got her bussin em for 55 |
| But her age say she 55 |
| Plus we outta town hope these crackers let it slide |
| Lets pull out the Californias get the corners live |
| My bitch is twenty got her bussen em for 55 |
| Her I.D. say she 55 |
| But she got pretty eyes hope she on a nigga line |
| Ugh, You pop shit but never there |
| Fuck your pela gear |
| Hollow tips make your lever tear |
| Like box breaks dont get twisted my beretta here |
| Under my R.L. sweater wear with the teddy bear |
| If there’s nine of us then nine hammers then |
| Its tall handlin with the rock like Kyle Anderson |
| Gave her one hit and wonder shine Anderson |
| Connect keep hittin my number I’m not answerin |
| Like Hello? they just role yellow |
| Ran outta Knicks line they told me no Melo |
| Hand never take on master go fellow |
| Won’t settle I’m killin em dog |
| Old yellow |
| You got beginner shine rich and me lay thats milla time |
| Gave the bear three faces and every bit of mine |
| Said you flowerd I can’t see it a nigga blind |
| I tell my slime make em get it line get a line |
| Jersey mansion watching Scarface like this shit is mine |
| Versace robe with slippers with three bitches high |
| Need a passport where Im getting fly |
| GY my nigga dont ask for but he gettin by |
| Wanna rock? then cop a quarter |
| On a block thats not for you |
| Fill the pot with hot water |
| Im focused word to my God daughter |
| On the journey to get that |
| My Melo jersey and Knick hat |
| You fellas urk me with that chit chat |
| Since my mother birth me Ive been that |
| I do my thug dizzle |
| On you cunt pussies |
| Bitch you know what this is |
| Straight raw and viscious |
| Seabass and foreign fishes |
| Gold dreams and hard wishes |
| Fight like I got four fists |
| Going through these more issues |
| Throwin disses, know I’m baggin, blowin dishes |
| Kitchen like a cook out, look out watching all four fences |
| Benzes and Lorenze’s til they ex name my existence |
| My lawyer’s a beast |
| I watch him feast on my offenses |
| Me and my comrades bout that vida |
| Clap clickin quicker than I out that reefer |
| Hop out that G4 |
| Like what the fuck you lookin at me for? why? |
| Cause I’m lookin like C4? |
| These nigga be perpin |
| Turning the amp on |
| For the same bitch I put a camera and lamp on |
| Smokin woods and my camp on |
| Looking good brick of yam and a hand gun |