Magical, pop's gone, shit tragical, mom's on mission
Remember Jim, we getting out of five eights
Thats my man anytime, I holla, holla with me
But she lay me up like the prime minister
Remember I'm gonna spend my cake
I want his wrist, fist, whole had, jammed with baguettes
Thousand grams of dope smellin' like Hine Vinegar
Money missin, oh shit, I almost chopped some fingers
My house is where the attics chill
Swiss accounts, I'm goin' show you how to wire cake
And you all are shook, I bought all my crooks
Fuck you R and B niggaz, Zeek sing all the hooks
Word to my grand ma, he one bad mamma jamma, dam
This pistol I'll squeeze it, missiles if needed, Killa
And we from BBO, now you a CEO
I'm like a teacher, I need me a sabbatical
Pose for the camera man, me and Santana man
So I don't write for the stardom
When it came to dope, I always copped in fingers
That was a lot to linger but to the top I bring her
Now it's not techs, it's checks and fancy collects
That's why I throw some doe to my cody from costovo
But you seven dollars, nickel bag and white owl
Tito and Brick, yes, yes, come again
I hope the chicken sandwich last us through the night child
Insomnia tics our life styles compatible
We ain't care, we didn't sleep, we was night owls
Fuck the rap, fuck the movies, fuck Siskel and Ebert
D.C. naw, would've been a sniper in Harlem
It's not irrational, I grew up radical
Help me get on overflow, no one suppose to know
I get, booted, zooted, write down my problems
Slit some wrist, that's when they said oh shit he's not a singer
I've been through it headed right for the bottom
Now chefs will fry us steaks, it's a higher stake
Direct a video, your own album, here we go
We shared chicken sandwiches, they was a dollar 1.50
