Tekst piosenki
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Guns pop, bullets drop
Quick wit the feet, Once we hear the cops (we gone)
This ain’t a school play, but give me my props
I started from the bottom, just starin’ at the top. (I see it)
The top is where I’m needed
The top is where I see it
The top is never mistreated
Don’t you ever misread it
I may seem conceited. (I might be)
But the game is food, and I’m bound to eat it
I’m ready to take it, and just face stuff it
I could do it like it’s nothin’. But it is somethin’. (It really is)
I got the party jumpin’
I got your heart thumpin’
And your veins stay pulsin’
I’m so fly, while you in a tailspin
I see you scramblin’
How you handlin’?
Oh you managin’?
Then why you stiff, standin’ still like a manikin. (Scary ass)
My flow got you panickin’
You scared, so sad, too bad
I’m rad, I’m radical
Rap game nigga, let me show you what I do
This is not the prime. I’m far from the pinnacle
I’m lookin’ straight into you
Blowin’ off steam like I was Majin Buu
Yes I do
I could paint a picture, but i’m far from a Basquait
Just watch, Switch spots, I’ll murder your spot. (we killin’ ’em)
The whole team got more cars than a parking lot
I say a lot
But I mean a lot
You get murked, or you get got
Or flip-flopped. What that mean?
You have no choice but to lose. (loser)
I may be single. But bad bitches come in two’s
And i’ll take ‘em both. I’ll never pick and choose
She sippin’ on that brooze
But I follow all the clues
I seen her in the city
What a shame, what a pitty
She was so pretty. She could’ve came wit me
But money got us empty… filthy, (dirty money)
She’s just a dime wit a penny
But i’m second to none, Couped up in a Bently
Wit Tims on my feet. Rims that can’t be beat.(fo’real?)
I’m killin’ all these beats.(really?) I’m never packin’ heat. (Oh really?)
And I got family inthe streets. And they ready to eat. (Straight up?)
And i’ll pay homage. But won’t forget the receipt
Creep….(I’m creepin’) straight on a come up
Trynna get my sum. Right when the sun up
Champagne at my table
17 wit no label
You niggas ain’t on my level
I’m ready to stack several
While you dancin’ wit the devil
My bars come in the dozens
I do it all for my cousin
Free my nigga from the pin. (free ’em)
I do it all wit the pen
So lord forgive us for our sins, and we gone. (Bye-bye)
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