All these rap niggas just sending threats Got a nose for the money and scent of death Red and Meth Couldn't get as high when I spent a check Big bills put a brother on like Belichick Last second left on the goal line Labels never thought I was a gold mine Landed with the pen with a gold mind How your thoughts made of gold but you don't shine I'm a champ, got the belt on my waist Leave em damp You could tell on my ace You can tell in my face I been to hell with no trail of a snake I been to jail with no bail on my case Closed curtain The flow cursed em The most certain to go Kirkland Two hands and they both hurting I choke serpents. I'm soul searching A cold merchant My food for thought is for those thirstin' In this mind it ain't no finish line Finish my business before I finish my sentence I kill it. Even the witness cryin' They feel each minute diminished So fuck the critics I wanna go down as one of the greatest who ever did it Eva did what? Tell the whole truth in this booth I'm a Flint nigga so all that ho shit don't compute Send shots at me with words, I'm bulletproof I'm from where niggas go to war over words and then they shoot. Fuck it and then they shoot, shoot, then shoot again If the homies don't hold em down say hello to they lil friend And they load up the forty four, stick a fork in your lil friend Consequnces when niggas living la vida loca pretend I hate niggas, snake niggas, fake niggas Them sweet niggas, cake niggas, wait niggas I'm my whole different breed like David, Kanye and Bree The Fly City's on, y'all know' the pedigree Started with a building, now want a block Started on a train, now I want a drop Dodging' rain they got umbrellas up in the Ghost My nigga Snags put me on, now I want a Ghost My nigga Max so potent, shit, he just wanna float Know a couple felony niggas and they just wanna vote Dead broke, Winter's up in Harlem, I just want a coat I don't trust flyin' shit across, I just want a boat Mami in my ear, she like I want some coke Lil homies down in B-more getting off the dope You speaking a foreign language if you talking broke Head shot, head shot, murder was all she wrote Billie Rose for the hoes, I give them all the toasts Did this shit right here from the projects Nigga, we always broke Now I play the cover of your favorite magazine I can fully understand why these niggas mad at me Only gettin nicer, might curb your cypher, I hit her every time With a rubber but never wife her Begging me for that raw shit, pull up on 1-4-5th Heavenly Porsches with a dot that's gorgeous Just left the jeweler for some rocks that's flawless Columbian dinners, talking bout business with some bosses K-Slay know that I'mma deliver godly. I tote Nines I'm from the hood, need that Ferrari