| Intoxicated and I’m faded, by your honey |
| Why, we finally made it, got to lovin' |
| Money, seeds and shine |
| They want to hate it, try to break it But it’s yours and mine |
| Nothing can change it, finally made it, so divine |
| Yo, I sat around the illest villains |
| Campaignin' while we all G off |
| Automatic mayors, now we ain’t playin' |
| Wolves start scheemin', violate me in the rain |
| Get more respect, rob Marvin Gaye on 'em |
| Gold, black, beige on 'em, heavy gauge |
| Gettin' blazed, all that money, but he ain’t even shaved |
| This a new flavor, bigger vets, bigger begets |
| Bigger papes, god damn it, nigga got saved |
| Three or more, two thousand four Blazers |
| Lookin' good, it’s all hood, just analyze amazed |
| Peace, let’s mozy and swaze', y’all |
| Then count real bank and thank 'em, hit me on the page, what |
| Yo, I was born on the same day as Dr. Seuss |
| Plenty of friends, henny and gin, who got the juice? |
| Let’s get drunk, in this motherfucker, let’s get pumped |
| I need that funk, like I ain’t took a bath in a month |
| You can find me where the thugs be at, club be at |
| A fact, I love women, 'cause they love me back |
| The name’s Johnny, they used to call me sucker for love |
| But now I’m grimey, cops searchin' motherfuckers for drugs |
| Give me that buzz, that calm a nigga, dimes and doves |
| At four twenty, when niggas knew what time it was |
| A shot of Remy, in my system, I’m buzzed |
| Then baby, I ain’t just a little war from unplugged |
| Haha, you know I, crack myself up, sometimes with no excuses |
| Like every nigga that done time, I didn’t do it Meth the Magnificent, not Jeff |
| I see the game done gone imputent, soft and suspect |
| Yo, silence on Smith with six shots, lick shots |
| Leave ya head like a Shaolin monk with six dots |
| Hit a gush, twistin' a sweet switcher |
| In search for Bobby the Digital, bitch, not Bobby Fisher |
| Head full, with a Grey Goose and Redbull |
| I came for, a beer, weed, plus a bed full |
| Of dimepiece, model type bitches, who mind they business |
| Blow my dick, like birthday cake wishes |
| My warrior’s scornful, hard to respond to Dirt McGirt, be sailin' boat and in Honolulu |
| Brooklyn Zu, wild like Chaka Zulu |
| Brooklyn Zu, shots will go right through you |
| Touch me in Cali, or the streets of Mauwi |
| In the two thousand six pitch black Audi |
| Drivin' by bitches, I’m like howdy |
| Doody, to you some beauty bitches crowd me |