Ever since I woke up this morning, I've on the cap up off my weed jar, and smoked a cone Took a and got gone in the wind, like Steve Wynn I'm from the streets of where we be hustlin and grittin' that women, mobbin' and mackin', droppin' and stackin' Wheelin' and and makin' a killin' trying to hit a million Perkin' and illin' and drinkin' and in front of the apartment building Packin' and totin' and toast the oh what a feelin' a fraudulent, I'm immaculate He a simp, he a sap, he I'm a boss, I'm a factor, I'm a hundred I'm a hustler Larry Flynt Getting money's my habit, I stay in the Papered up like a tablet, my is massive If I in a loser, mayne I'm gonna walk out a winner I ball like a hooper man, up like a printer I wrapped too tight, I'm touched, I'm throwed Mental health, argue with my cursin' out myself My got a psychologist, neurologist too I'm one of one, I'm not you
Act like you Dippin' and and weavin' In and out of traffic, from the morning to the Trying to get my paper right, my Stack it to the
Act you know Dippin' and and weavin' In and out of traffic, from the to the evening Trying to get my right, my nigga Stack it to the
Drinking and blowing on good bud Smokin' on a strain you never of shit, I got it from my plugs You my weed on my rug That's twenty pushups, that's a party You can do 'em or do 'em now I allow (who?) Aliens me, that's a no-no They'll try to sneak me and my brains into adobo see me solo, if you do I'm not Best believe E-40 his .45 Glock I'm ADHD, need something to calm my You libel to find me at my teacher's meeting smellin' like herb I stay plastered, but I'm all my paper Liquor aroma, that's me in the More whips Auto Trader, that's what I got Driveway, looks a car lot My bite is stronger than my you thought, heart Bitch you full of shit a dog park Mark ass poodle, square as a Weirdo, Why do suckas, be all in a one's business? While these sideline niggas be always to count a hustler's chizznips Flappin' their lizznips some bitches, man they saps Dudes be running their mouth like that, we 'em quack-quacks That's how a bitch smack-smacked in the naps, clapped Head put on flap, Fix-a-Flat can't even 'em back (bitch)
Act you know and bobbin and weavin' In and out of traffic, the morning to the evening Trying to get my paper right, my it to the ceiling
Act you know Dippin' and and weavin' In and out of traffic, the morning to the evening Trying to get my paper right, my Stack it to the
...to the