| The pussy specialist, lured the kitten with the necklace |
| I’m laying naked while the artist sketching |
| Young Archie Blocker, Amedei Porcelana for a young designer |
| Then I pull off in a beamer with the Rican skeezer |
| Her nails extended, hair long, ass tremendous |
| Swobble bitches, take charge and do the sentence |
| I threw the linens, summertime over Scottie Pippens |
| Lock the clip in, see the boys then I gots to ditch it |
| Rocks I pitched it, fiends would call me in chem class |
| I raised my hand in the bathroom, that was quick cash |
| I flip fast, connect with dancer with jubilance |
| I walk the dog in the snow and left the poodle prints |
| I’m up now, until I can skip on a noodle dish |
| I rest my head on the chair and stare at the roof of chris |
| It’s ludicrous that I’m doing this, on some music shit |
| They tell niggas speak no evil, I’m at the root of it |
| Drug crimes, young niggas to sell dimes |
| Tote steel and steal shines |
| You squeal they squeeze nines (Woah!) |
| I’m bout mine, sell lines and duck swine |
| Light boots and .45s whole click be low lives (Oh!) |
| The high disputed to the street as the children play |
| From the steps, so watch the car crash in disarray |
| What a mess, the polo button tailor press |
| Under the sweater, that’s a vest, I like the cess |
| The belt of ___?, behind the wheel |
| Pull back the suit to reveal where he hide the steel |
| Caught two bodies when the Puerto Ricans tried to rob me |
| He Jason Williams, with the shotty, off a shot of sake |
| Mr. Hitachi still dealing blow in the building lobby |
| The fiend is tripping on the 5th floor, they smoking bobby |
| Custom paint the rover |
| Black like Kevin Hart in Paper Soldiers |
| You niggas mice, bait the cobra |