' sho' On them Nike Air Force N E behind the O Okay Li I treat my shoe like my ride Chrome on the fat laces and put wood on the inside Spray candy on
a dog, s*** I eat the food I steal Floors ain't dirty enough My game is like carryin' shotguns and 21 rough Doctor, I'm like the war on drugs I don't
ride (Big boy) chrome on the fat laces at what wood on the inside (Big boy) spray candy on the swoosh With the electric poofs (Big boy) since I put a kit on
t a Lunatic, then what do ya call that If my pockets ain't obese, then what do ya call fat I wasn't born on purpose, I was unpurposely born I'm the result
's on the market I can work it I ain't scared, I ain't nervous, give it to Juve dog and let me serve it You holdin' on the coke now whats the purpose
done shit Down Here, we eat steaks on the first of the month We flip work convertible and purposeful blunts Whip it the the kitchen, call it the hell hole Im on
somewhere sittin' on the stoop huh Sippin' on the **** plottin' to **** me later huh When will a hater learn I'm too great on a song I **** on the corner
shoot Spinning in your city homie, sending hoes through Yeah, hold on, let me find something to roll up on Baby girl hold on, let me find something to roll up on
so high you get vertigo, assertive girl a-fern to blow Eternally superlative, blindfolded learn to drive at night up on a girder bridge, heard a "NO!" Talib dirty
about that Any more suggestions? You in the back, yeah you You should rap more on beat, you should rap more street And never ever get your mack on please
niggaz when we walk through the party Pimp talk with the Mac strapped to our body Bartender's nervous, afraid to serve us, bad service Unsmacked him on purpose
to get the package, got there it was gone Hold on say word, you got to be jokin' Don't worry about it dun, I'm on the next thing smokin' Hit Bristal up on
The flowers that I gave you Dying slowly on the wall The broken fragments of opinion As the dirty start to fall I'm not as careful as I should have been
about beef I be thinking bout big numbers On top of things running shit why you bitches going under If I take your ass on this track it'll probably defeat the purpose
world and we rowdy, rowdy is there a heaven for a gangsta, Lord put me to sleep cause your best friend turn into your enemy crooked cops is dirty in this shaded game go on
know, because there's all this social doctrine that says, you know, that the infinite God, with all this expression, who created every single one of us, absolutely different, on purpose
equiped to miss u u gonna need an ambulance to stich ya tissue or either have a bag on ya hip to shit through u seen us on a av aint just to get chu