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Light my blunt, you fucking whore Yeah, that's what the fuck I'm talking about Nigga's got game, it's a muthafucking shame Make you want to grab the pump shotty and aim One in the brain, uh yeah, one in the brain Check it, yeah, uhh Nigga's got game, it's a muthafucking shame Grab the pump shotty and aim When you see me with that mask It ain't for hockey, black Used to play the lobby with crack Wally's is black Pontiac's quality rap Tapping punani from the back off the Yak My bitch is built like a yak My kick's is a rack Open your chicken wrap Wings on the pigeon flap Still rock fisherman hats with the slacks You're listening to facts Nothing false My heart won't defrost Send shots back and forth Serve soft, ho circle us all Dipped in velour SongtexteKiss the gift horse (muah) A eighth off the bricks chipped off (break 'em off) Rose gold links from Panama Tan lines from camel rides Smooth like the Phantom glides Fly eyewear, diamonds is rare Fresh out of Zaire I'm on a higher tier Dry your tear Pop guns by the pair One in the trunk, call that a spare Lift you in the air Ligaments tear Yeah My mind is different though Just lift your chain over your neck Don't make it difficult These choices I make No need for explanation Exceeding expectations I'm like a surgeon deal with daily operations- Of the life we live Green drugs rolled up in paper A very subtle Meyer lemon sauce Sicilian capers Moroccan razors Cause life is all about a balance Good come with the bad The plain comes with the palette It could get violent Send your body to the stylist I stand alone You cats be wildin' like I'm Irish Protection from the virus, "Magic" J Homies pass away I'm living life until that tragic day Dip in 635, CSI, Gil Grissom eyes We only smoke it if it's crystallized The drugs are hidden by a pigeon in her tits and thighs My pockets never minimize Whipping a cinnamon ride This crime saga rap Twist the Goldschläger cap Waves under my stocking cap Queens shit, we started that East Coast artifact Never artificial Fly lecture architecture Boxcutters will kiss you Shotgun shells will massage you Type of affection that'll make your friends dodge you It's all love though Even in times of war I'll beat the pussy up And make vaginas raw Wait a designer whore They come back like china raw Fly, fuck a tie Only suit I'm rocking is velour Got Benz money but look better in a Cadillac Timepieces, rhyme, pieces Victim of my habitat Divine status, I'm already known for having that Dead a tan linguine nowadays because I rather black And fuck marinara, I like my gravy hotter We keeps it spicy so I order it arrabiata Aus Songtexte Mania