My walk talk for me
My whip talk for me
My gat talk for me
Blah, whatever homie
Louie told me, "Go and switch your style up"
So haters be watchin' my money pile up
Fuck it, my pockets is gettin' wider
I'm fuckin', she's suckin', and gettin' louder
And the room, full of hoes, fuckin' hooligans
This tone of violence be sprayin' whoever listening
Fuck the world when they be listening
I'm killin' 'em
Like cuts to your Michelin, keep listenin'
The glove don't fit like I got away
The white Bronco, that's a getaway
Fuck bitches in the slums, that's my getaway
Kill Rich's grace under pressure, Hemingway
You sweatin', you nervous, why?
'Cuz your bitch be spittin' my verses?
My beats break necks, so bring the hearse
Skinny sand nigga with a crew full of turbans
Throw my click up, girls want to sip up
Order more bottles, let 'em hoes drink up
Money not an issue, my withdrawls need a pick-up
My dick up when I watch my wrists freeze like a stickup
Pull up like a cop pullin' over
Like Gotti in the gotti, move over
Like a [?] comin' at you with his hostler
Like Manson in a mansion stickin' knives to your throat
Red eyes from the marijuana
Better put your shades on when the camera's on ya
Can't help but smile cause my pockets full of cheese
And I came to the game with all odds against me
