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[INTRO] Yeah, check, Marc Back for the crown baby AV that’s brown like gravy Style is wavy Lazy eye Tracy McGrady Deliver like an 80 pound baby I’m a horse, you a rope I let off Macks You crap in your clothing Golden moments Rolls Royce driver named Coleman 45 watch game frozen Scared to death Mad salty like a potato chip You know the routine I’m out to break a bitch Over the stove with the bakers mitt I’m still on that gangsta shit Burning that dour European footwear I’m coming off a real good year Kush in the air Them niggas like books, Look square I swear they don’t even got hood flare I’m a natural, You little rascal Letras de cancionesHomo swag, I wouldn’t put it past you Changes invested, faith’s tested I paid for the necklace and ate breakfast My thoughts is pour torches left corpses My chariot pulled by horses Ya’ll doo-doo, I’ll sock it to you Pierce your rib with the spear like Shaka Zulu Cops pursue you When you got pies like Lu Lu Control a whore’s mind like voodoo Suave, CL 5 grey in the driveways Ménage à trois on Fridays Peel bills consistent And just to think I willed this into existence Memories of being broke are now distant I insisted biscuits For all that I did to get rich then I hope within you forgive the kid like a Christian To get rich then, I hope within You forgive the kid like a [Hook] From the deuce to the tre From a tre to an eighth From an A to a K to a 9 from a K From a K to the grey, 45 all black All black 45, from a tec to a mac Big dinners, dilemmas I ride in a Plymouth Listening to the Spinners I love the art but it’s a business D’s trying to pin us Cause what I do with the pen is stupendous Young niggas look up to us like father figures Design fly rhymes like architecture Modern philosopher The feds trying to pop at us But ya’ll ain’t got the proper size nuts Line me up without the iron cuff Reclined in the truck My mind like a diamond in the rough Apply the cut gotta come up Got to sit tough, Chronic is puff Wallets is buff, I’m a stud Dollars is spotted with blood The nine snub Should hold you out with thugs You forgot what it was, huh? Well bitch that’s what is though Pitch em an O Lou Ferrigno, indo Flowed out the benz Tinted windows Pimp bones Exotic skin tones Ear lobes flooded with gem stones Money put in a hoes flip ten folds Gotta stack it Ya squad is at the bottom of the bracket That’s why I keep the llama in the bomber jacket That’ll push yo whole yarmulke backwards [Hook] From the deuce to the tre From a tre to an eighth From an A to a K to a 9 from a K From a K to the grey, 45 all black All black 45, from a tec to a mac Gangsta Mack. Back. From Letras Mania