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Got the reggie from the Bush Get lifted like a saint off the kush, man all my niggas push So I always got the zip stock in the zip locks They know, like Ralph flip stock, hit the Mary, won't kiss and tell My lips locked but my grip's not so I pass it off Real burners, and we ashing off your furniture Fuck your couch, bitch, hush your mouth She said she fell in one of them Ls, but less don't count These chickens don't love me, they love the account But they will never know what's the amount, I keep the hoes in check Till they bounce, don't ever let a chick see you withdrawing These niggas want to know what I draw with But won't respond to what I've drawn Tetrahedrons, take a dose of Patrone Mix with all them juices, deuce 'Cuse and Metatron They wouldn't hear the tone through a megaphone, let alone Cellular phone, but my line stay hella blown Hella blown, hella blown Yo, Houston, we got a problem, copy Four, five hotties in the lobby So they can blow the rockets properly, but blowing spots never stop Like them hockey's, they never get aqui to my prothy Known around my city like George Pataki Young Jason for them dollars in the mix like teriyaki And round four, I force my large Versace SongtexteOver my big head, 'cause I don't live here, she getting too cocky Won't spot me in no closet, I ain't like Kels and them A closet full of arm limbs and a skeleton I spray nines on foes, but if you pick five MCs Ever ain't gone flow like me, nigga I'm two-six I mean too sick, sent to Earth just to shit Mami, come stay, it's some new stick, I demand, I don't give two shits Better tell that doofus deuces before he catch you whipping Hit him in his Charles Dickens and strip him for his Scottie Pippens 'Cause it's all about the big pimping Rob him for his Nixon, and then question him about his timing Right here, it gets reckless, best advice is To tuck your necklace and put your arms right back into your Lexus 'Cause G-Stone Crips, they ain't nothing To flex when it ain't really pyru, they really on some next shit So if I were you I would probably ride with two No fool, not two dudes, two tools As in deuce-deuce 'cause niggas jock you for your soul And your new shoes and your jewels, too There's something about another nigga having shit That have a nigga spazzing clips all up in your back and dent 'Cause it's all about bagging the baddest chick Stacking them chicks up in Saks Fifth But word is bond, you been on Word is bond, you been on Aus Songtexte Mania