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We could do it like how we used to with no hook Got a nice little breakdown for a verse and shit Uh, crumbling cookie crumbs into my bong and writing songs Niggas you took too long to come get that shit, now it's gone It sells itself when it's packaged this well Can't sit on the shelf, they copping it in cases of twelve I shoot my shot at a bad bitch and pick up my shells We do our thing but don't kiss and tell, no paper trail I keeps it real and that shit pay me well On a major scale, but I still push for expansion, see it's really all about branding Internalizing the business mechanics, big in that tactics Got buildings in Cali, got ranches in Dallas, marijuana and cattle We slinging it all, see it don't matter, one stop shop Got the ZR1 with the top drop, I'm parked outside of the strip spot These bitches delivering money knots, they all smiling when they walk out Singles filed in a line, they buss it down, they give me mine They love to give me mine, they love to see me shine Baby had a sparkle in her eye, to me it looks like dollar signs (alright) Yeah, real nigga, authentic Batman, Bruce Wayne, still kicking Five cones, pour four, three cups, one nigga, two bitches Real nigga from New Orleans, in the A, the booth still fucking with me Trademark straight pimping, sauce dripping, six rings, Scottie Pippen I was too real for them lames SongtexteI was always bout my change Four solo albums in, still doin my thang, what the fuck is you sayin? Y'all niggas faking and playing, me I've been about my business Bank account that's my witness, got a hundred mill on my wishlist No ain't speaking bout no money bitch, I ain't really trying to hear the shit Talking bags in my convos, ninety bands stashed in the condo Boss man, I'm the CEO Tonto the head honcho Tell your worker run them bags over, I need all my bands pronto Living life on the edge, I'm taking a risk I'm taking my shot, either make it or miss Used to be broke as a joke, my nigga that shit is no myth Was raised by queens, but still it ain't no love for no bitch I'm cool as it get, I shine like the sun, I flooded my wrists She told me a mill, I'm fucking her friend in the back of the Benz Just me and my dogs, we killed this once, we gonna kill it again My mama was working, my brother was trapping, my pop in the pen They call it the ghetto, we call it the trap cause that's what it is I told my lil bro, them niggas be talking, don't trap out the crib I'm feeling like Mitch, I hustle like Nip, it's all money in One life to live, my homie got shot, he took two to the ribs Cooking that audio dope, they told me it's all in the wrist It's still fuck a lame, it's still fuck the world and fuck how you feel Could name a few kids who packing that steel, it be real in the field My summers was cold, friends turn to foes, it is what it is Aus Songtexte Mania