(x2)
Pass my bro the oop, ayy
He know just what to do
Going crazy when I come through so they think I'm on the loose
Got me two bitches, and I got two phones
From the 32 but I stay in and out of zones
Catch me posted on the block like the street lights
Off the fucking bean and I'm rolling like some dice
Checkmate, checkmate, how I get that check
Keep a shooter in the cut that's nothing but net
Balling out, I got hops, drop the top in the drop
I got keys, Sensei got this shit on lock
And this lil bitty bitch can't get no rendezvous
I'm bloated off that dirty and I cannot see my shoes
All my bros run at you cause they don't got shit to lose
Bout 650 on my sneakers, man I ain't got shit to prove
Let's go, flex hoe, your pockets and your feelings, think I'm rotten to the core
I'm so damn throwed that there ain't no one to catch me
They so sad, can't be surprised even when they disrespect me
(x2)
Randy's models looking kinda horny
My bitch came in straight from Harlem
Randy Harden balling, boy you done and it ain't no war
Pull up make your bitch faint, yellow Chevy piss paint
Your bitch want to get acquainted, I only want consummation
Hit my line, expect taxation, y'all boys ain't in the equation
Professor Randy fucking double check my calculations
Sip Hi-Tech, yeah they call me redneck
Randy make that bitch sing like a damn quartet