Yo Wassup son Wassup, what's really good Whats really good right now Hahahahaa I'm billin' at the club with a bottle and a bag Fresh to death head to toe with that average Joe swag Lookin' Walmart sheik with the exception of the sneakers Got my own shit bumpin' through them Clarion speakers Got burn one at the wheel with the pistol on tug Got Demun an Crisis with me y'all don't wanna press your luck I got the windows down, hoody weather with a breeze That's four mother fuckers, eight pockets full of cheese I got a whole bottle of Stolichnaya A fresh bag of fire from my supplier And I think I just saw cloud 9 Hundred and ninety-nine fly by La la la la la la This shit cut to the bone Criminals sing this song (Hey!) What's real can you not feel The way we murder and kill Open minds up and let guts spill Never done on this level until Now you might win a battle or a freestyle But that's t-ball and I'm on a million miles You got a sling shot I got armor and a shield And a lot of hundred-dollar bills And a hot model cooking all of my meals New York lawyer closin' my deals Nothing on the table, every cent banked Dipped head to toe and my shit don't stank Great white shark in a fish tank Gennie in your wish list, what your bitch thank? What your bitch thank? I got a whole bottle of Stolichnaya A fresh bag of fire from my supplier And I think I just saw cloud 9 Hundred and ninety-nine fly by I got a whole bottle of Stolichnaya A fresh bag of fire from my supplier And I think I just saw cloud 9 Hundred and ninety-nine fly by La la la la la la La la la la la la la la Jimmy Ty, Daniel Ellsworth, Alexander Perkins Got 'em all slurpin' the gherkin Murkin' and twerkin' I'm lookin', it's workin' I'm arrogant, American, the liquor drinking derelict They wonder where I get the nerve, nowhere in particular Bitches say I'm immature then they want a signature Boyfriend trippin', hematomas, ligatures Your girl still got a pretty face but look at yours I could take your hooker sure I could also make a coffee table book of turds I'm a 6-pack, and get back 12 to raise hell and a case If you don't get the fuck out my face… I got a whole bottle of Stolichnaya A fresh bag of fire from my supplier And I think I just saw cloud 9 Hundred and ninety-nine fly by I got a whole bottle of Stolichnaya A fresh bag of fire from my supplier And I think I just saw cloud 9 Hundred and ninety-nine fly by La la la la la la La la la la la la la la We been poppin' collars Like a bullet through the knot in a necktie Headline act with a 10 o'clock set time 4 o'clock load in label on the phone "Yo we need a record from you Danny" Gotta meet the deadline Another night writing for the sunlight bedtime Purple circles, around my red eyes Elevate the mind state Try to relax with a bottle and a sack And they call this big time Chiefin' like a chief in a wigwam Inhale deep this shit will make ya wig warm Crysis Jones on the left Ty, "what the hook gonna be?" I was thinking something like the weed hook Don't mean, yeahhhh… Maybe not Take a shot of vodka Pack another bowl up Talk a little caca (Talk a little caca) Smoke until we cockeyed (Smoke until we cockeyed) Alright… I'm billin' at the club with a bottle and a bag Fresh to death head to toe with that average Joe swag Lookin' Walmart sheik with the exception of the sneakers Got my own shit bumpin' through them Clarion speakers (Speakers, speakers, speakers, speakers...) (Speakers, speakers, speakers, speakers...) (Speakers, speakers, speakers, speakers...)