Hahaha, OWWWWWW!
We just keep smokin and smokin and smokin
Hehehe, I enjoy myself!
I eventually expect to fall out one of these days
But fuck it... whattup?
M-I-double-L-I-O-N's
Got cash, can't trust some of my old friends
Niggaz ain't walk this path of my old Timbs
Let me find out it's my lawn that there's potholes in
Cause P ain't Posdonus, smoke blunts like a rasta
Hold uzis in a mobster suit
The Bugati got ostrich seats, my gosh I'm loose
Pick up 50 G's a morning with my orange juice
Now, you don't know me and you don't want to
Cause - six in the mornin, I'm comin to hunt you
Give it a little time, I have the country sewed
Cause I did more dirt than a country road
Frankly I don't give a damn like, Humphrey Bog'
20 bricks, 50 pounds that's my monthly load
Nigga watch the pump explode, you can jump if you want
But I'ma dump 'til I ran the globe (c'mon)
Who's that makin that God damn noise?
That's S.P., Waters and them D-Block boys
Don't worry 'bout a scrap daddy, we pop toys
So don't go fuckin with them D-Block boys
Now now now who that makin that God damn noise?
That's S.P., Waters and them D-Block boys
Don't worry 'bout a scrap daddy, we pop toys
So don't go fuckin with them D-Block boys
Street dreams consist of triple beams
A vest'll connect with the best for red seams
A M-16 for fiends with heavy habits
Why wait on him when Waters already have it?
Spread to the West, started with petty traffic
Get a gassy nigga ass and dead him with some matches
Now he ashes, no need for a casket
Fuckin bastard, I'm the greatest, young Cassius
Squeeze first or get hit 'til your knees hurt
And do top {?} free work on your t-shirt
Usually with bitches I start with the beat first
But I'ma show these niggaz that beef hurt
Now now now, I stay true to my tattoos
One life to live, forgive me T. Waters a fool
I used to sell weed, half quarters at school
Put some bread on his head, I'll slaughter the dudes, ya heard?
You don't wanna be in the coma
Fuckin with this Ruff Ryder artist, D-Block owner
Any liquor I drink I chase with Coronas
Rap so hard niggaz tryin to clone us
Needed a Ghost Rider you just shoulda phoned us
You really ain't gangster cause you been woulda showed us
Whattup homey, whattup cuz
I keep a orange boxcutter and I don't cut up rugs
Mad beef jumpin off is what a whattup does
If I felt like the vibe was wrong, that's my word
12 gauge mausberg, your side is gone
Now some of y'all is joinin, some of y'all retirin
You need a hit man, I'm the one for hirin (call me)
I keep the dutch and the gun, still firin
Watch out for niggaz, cause feds got 'em wired in
First second third and fourth, I hear si-rens