(La Musica de Harry Fraud) Blood Orange Pellegrino match the flame Buick Regal The way I play the Vegas strip, you would think I'm Bugsy Siegel This the rebirth of Max Julien, I'm far from a Hooligan A soft spoken gentlemen, who got a few lady friends SL Mercedes Benz, that's just for the weekends The fruits of her labor, what she did for a Mac then Electric blinds sliding down the windows at the Bel Air Room Service, Champagne bottles in the hot tub Private suite, told her book that shit for another week Egyptian cotton pillow sheets, nothing but the best for P Funny thing is, a nigga live right up the street Close to the Palisades, but I can't give too much away They follow niggas home, and leave 'em soaking in they driveway That's why you'll never catch me hanging with a bitch up at my own place Fuck a stash in my ride, it's in my lap when I slide, mane 'Cause nowadays, you gotta be the first to squeeze your shit, gang Editorial, how the story go? It was the beat or me, I can't be sorry fo' Moving on our road, like dice across the globe On ice, yellow gold Millionaire, mellow flow Professional Camaro, pedal steppin' on This the '90, my other one a '81 I'm seconds from the top, where haters come Gunning for your spot, you gotta watch out, my nigga, and wait for them Sure as the morning will bring us the sun Them niggas hungry, and they want it But them niggas don't want to work for nothin' But they lurk in the shadows They wait until you look too comfortable, then they decide to attack you The fact them niggas coming for you just look bad for you But you can't let no fuck shit happen too you