Lyrics

[Blue Pesos] ...real, this ain't a simulation In the Ruler, bitch, we trust, the only thing to keep me motivated Throw that beef on this big platter, nigga, I'll gladly take it "P, why you do him grimy? He ain't 'bout nothin'" You see the Mussle goin' up, it's called "innovation" They could never be the Stincs, them niggas fabricated Extort him quick for the uchies, fuck negotiatin' I need it all, I need it now, I don't got no patience The closest you'll get to bein' me is your imagination Niggas always askin' where the bitches? Where the Ben Franklins? A hundred songs in a week, I need a vacation Shit