Ayy They call me Rocky Rhodes Over the Viking stove, I'm icy cold Like a peg leg pirate, dope in the Pyrex Soon as I cut the pilot on turn and turn up the temp Six hundred degrees like that dreadhead from Hollygrove Went from performin' in kitchens live to rockin' shows Coppin' from the Coney, now we swappin' out at Pappadeaux's Thirty in the morning, grittin' with a snotty nose Big forty on me, I'm the wrong nigga to pick on Heard they tippin' on me, must've heard I got them bricks gone Worker turned informant, had to dump all of my flip phones Cup full of poison, I'm the real Jim Jones Me and Fin still on the Hell in the fire and brimstone Jeans reekin', kerosene from the space heater Ball cap, waist-length mink, and some Timbs on Or with these bullshit Balenciaga play sneakers Thuggin' in the 'jects, half a milly worth of gems on 'Cause when the goin' get tough, pick up and hit the road Who the fuck can I trust? Who can I depend on? Bad bitch strapped down with a brick and a half Her ass lookin' saggy like she got Depends on Had to make sure it was that before we sent the work Just pray to Lord we make it back, can't risk me gettin' searched And if he try to double back before we flip the merch Just put a little in the baggie, little in the purse Your mans got you baggin' up? It could be worse Just put a little in the baggie, put a little in the purse Just put a little in the baggie, put a little in the purse I'm half man, he half eighty-milligram oxy Three hundred racks annually, that's fifty bands monthly In the hicks, bogartin' like your mans Humphrey Loadin' up on 'codones and jeans, we be pants huntin' Whippin' up in Poland Springs, got them grams jumpin' Fam dumpin', ninety in two days, got my hands crampin' Thumbin' through them Peewee Longways and them Young Lays Ain't all that nigga diamonds blindin' in the sunrays? Broad day, 'll turn a nigga to a Sun Chip Or chip a nigga for my gang with them drumsticks Leave a nigga mouth redder than some Fun Dip Shoot out of town and pour an eight up in a Sunkist 'Cause when the goin' get tough, pick up and hit the road Who the fuck can I trust? Who can I depend on? Bad bitch strapped down with a brick and a half Her ass lookin' saggy like she got Depends on Had to make sure it was that before we sent the work Just pray to Lord we make it back, can't risk me gettin' searched And if he try to double back before we flip the merch Just put a little in the baggie, little in the purse Your mans got you baggin' up? It could be worse Just put a little in the baggie, put a little in the purse Just put a little in the baggie, put a little in the purse Ooh, my love I'm told that you are a dangerous man, Arturo I like that It excites me