This your boy Wiz man And I'm a talk my shit, yeah, I hope ya'll niggas is used to hearing my by now, And if not, get to it
I woke up from a California again, Next to someone's who I'll probably never meet again You call her a groupie Ask me I say she a fan Spending all her hours thinking bout what she do and when I be on 747 flying frequent shit You get all the press and try to for when I'm due to land And get home in the daytime, way the PM Tryin' to finish living out this dream so I be in And ask me if I'm lonely I ain't as my money good cause she my one and only Critics got they face up in my business gettin But I'm just out here putting on for who knows me No, I ain't in my position comfy Drinking and ifa chief and bring alisa oz I stay me some backup, in case you run up on me He gonna play the pastor, make a nigga
call me the 501 Don Mr. he got a pear of 501's on My marijuana strong and these hoes shit but probably calls Dog I met her at the club, we was fucked up it to my crib we was both drunk, driving Now you on lame shit, claiming you're my main bitch Do us a fav, don't text, don't call me, darling I was made to it's like Spaulding rolling say I'm the bomb and they call Wiz, atomic Hotter than New Orleans, or a geoge grill, And Chevy caught like Jalil I'll is I go so I need sudafed, Big dog all ya'll poodle fed in the wall all through the vent Still got time to