Lyrics

Your boy sick So move or the germ might touch ya I'm at the rucker, burning them trees up like Usher When I teach you how to rap fam I'm in that black and My ear-rings are Canaries the size of Pacman Who gives a fuck if you sour boy Cuz my doors got the windows from the 24-Hour store I'm on the verge of flippin Lord send me a sign, before I empty this nine, and leave the boy drippin Me and 50 like Michael and Pippin Ryu or Ken, whoever you send, I'ma rip em' I had to lead society, mainly wit my system Run and put em' in the trunk, like a kidnapper victim I pop up till there pushin me harder My associates got interior motives like bush and his father I figure, I rather play wit these lames before i pass Build a ball-court, go buy Bentleys to go to crash I'm headed towards my prime Wit metaphors and lines And I compliment my momma wit pedicures and wine I'm line for line, the rap Einstein Pound for pound Tyson a.k.a Icing Left it for the record I ain't sleepin for a second So even if im naked theres tool under the pillow I'm ballin so the view of the pool is from the window I'ma smoker, so believe were the niggas wit the Indo An angels nightmare, freddy kruegar to a bimbo A dead beat to ur daughter I'll fuck her and won't support her I'm mashing on the pedal Smile from ear to ear Middle finger in the air Hopin I catch her eye Keep rydin behind your tints fuck Niggas don't know no better They'll rob you for the rhinestones in your pimp cup They goin off what we say Niggas is runnin over my bars, faster than Jamaicans in a relay I'm blowin the Kush, driving lazy in the lane Yelling money ain't a thang Like Jay-Z and Jermaine And ill leave you on a chain Like Brady wit the aim I'm the same Whether the Mercedes or the train And I may be on a plane By the end of the night But it's aight Tho, I might go I'm rich off a Mic Hoe My stamina's low X-Rated is my type so I keep the crib packed in, no telling where it might go Living room, dining room, bedroom, bathroom Upstairs, nuts smeared all over your Sasoon Ya im on that fly shit That Southside shit That I'ma sit on at least ten million before i die shit I'm from the block where the heafers be To doing shows out in Kingston when they rocking where your peppers see And being gangsta ain't enough A lil' nigga that's stuntin will put a killa in a box like Chucky CHEAH!