[Wstęp] That was the warmup, that was the warmup baby Aight Elite for real one take dawg and I'm up outta here One. Yup. Yeah
[Wers 1] Lord please forgive me for my sinnin’ I ain’t saying that I’m finished But I’m praying in advance Cuz the way her eyes glance like they playing in my pants Yeah ballgame, I swear the hoes wasn’t in my plans When a nigga took the chance and came to the big city My beat machine the only fucking thing I had with me Like Bobby had Whitney we was cooking up crack But the fifteen credits had a nigga off track Picture that, best rapper since Lil Wayne in classes The best bachelor since Bruce Wayne with his bachelor’s The master of this rap shit You hear the words coming from my lips bastards I never crack I got that chap stick I practiced till that shit made perfect And served it to the public on a silver platter Now where’s the ladder? Cause either you gonna whine or you climb; I chose the latter Know you haters is pissed hold your bladder though ‘Fore you get tossed like a forward lateral We never tattle, let God handle that Or let the mob handle that No Soprano, half black half white, I’m a piano I’m an animal my video on Discovery Channel I’m a beast when my shit hits the streets these niggas cease To exist like a beach in a tsunami You find me in the ‘Ville, in the state of N.C Bitch, if I ain’t back home I’m up in N.Y.C ‘Bout that money probly like a fucking robbery But I ain’t jacking, I’m chasing dreams Sort of like jeans boy I ain’t slacking I’m chasing dreams, sort of like jeans boy I ain’t slacking Hey take a hard look at my drive nigga no hacking On my shit I’m straight smacking niggas, straight tagging niggas Yo I freestyle and fuck you niggas ya’ll be wilding and I’m outTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
