Lyrics

[Verse 1: STS] Tough as woodpecker lips Got a handle on the game like a rubber grip Driver license reads bad mother fucker, bitch Around the way I'm better known as The Illustrious Cooler than a cali night, underneath a philly sky California chronic got me feeling like I'm really hot They don't really know what I be rolling I could really [lie?] Got the game down to a science nigga Bill Nye [?] make me feel fly new [??] All a dream like JUICY now the shit is in reach White icing on the caddy red velvet on the seat You may refer to me as sugar nigga shit ain't sweet South side in my speech more specific to; 'peach' From the seeds i have sewn I continue to reach The bitter visit of struggle admit it taught me to hustle Had to fit in where I fit in like a piece of the puzzle Niggas in trouble [Verse STS] Gladiator like Russle, [aviator rent a duffle?] Brown leather [white teeter?] jet setter in me Trend setter the beat So competitively Show kill, dressed to kill like commander and chief [Peep?] I live on my feet, never die on my knees So when the reaper come and get me, bury me in my 3's I be as busy as bees My bitches thicker than thieves And they don't speak much sounding like they right on my eaves [??? shit]Flaunt shit, everybody want shit, where the fuck were niggas when I was grinding the gauntlet Only my associates [???] and Montlick Tippy in the studio with the booth haunted Want this, dead or alive Credit my guys' all respect due Red in my eye part of the high Shit I want to kick it with [nice?] [?] p?] replies I just want you to listen to this [and better?] And ride [Verse STS] Chasing hives like a cracker from the valley chasing tives Ain't no feeling like that feeling when you take them by surprise I arrived [just a ???] I fell from the friendly skies Taking shots at the [?] my niggas like friendly fire Sick desire [for playing with???] [heavy fire vinyl???] Shout outs go to my [?] and my suppliers I admire the figures and the time it took to make this Don Peiron and the weight in the bitches faces [Aces?] Shots of Patron like I'm in my zone Like I'm at home Atlanta [?] and Jessie Tanner; Bad Santa Three hoes with my pardon my manners Them lovely ladies hanging on to me like a bandana They told what is good for the goose is good for the gander Well bitches in my [celly???] [?] [planner?] Wave to me, hey to me baby like a banner [Try?] [???] flashin' cameras