Groundkeepers., let's creep Yeah Son of a Come on Frozen face look at my wrist Where the magic at Pimp's frost just fucked up It's where the ratchets at On the track is where it happened, at the Blade Bitches seranade my escapades outta Escalades The nannies and Range Rover, high prince Watch they swinging in the hood That bitch nigga got the hot heads Look at my iris Pupils bloodshot like a drunk Iris So far doing shots with the pilot 30 000 feet reading 'bout the sky mall But all I want is the asian flight attendant on my balls Kaleidoscope diamonds, rollercoaster whips Soon as you hit the bar, I'm at your table Toasting with your bitch Shoulda bought a bottle and just take a loss Come around me with a hot head, I turn it into hot sauce Blow your brains out your skull nigga, memory loss Wise Peter, fucking pimp, truly yours Bandana over the money stack Bitch get my paper, coming running back (running back) Look at little shorty with the hundred pack He got dreams of sipping lean in the Cadillac Had to tell him, living life as a felon Ain't all that it seemed to be It's even better Pendants on your chain, diamonds in your favourite letters Guns under the seat, the life of a go getta Aargh, keep the door... Great grimy tooth and nail Serve me, play the ukelele while I'm doing rails Bowl of escargot, oh I'm doimg snails Used to sell crack, now I'm rapping and doing well The best rapper out now Next step is get capped and getting shot like Al-P I'm not your mother fucking friend fam Fuck the keeky keeky boom boom When the flim flam? I'm hot as creepers, creep the fho fho I been bad Let's get physical, pull the pistol from my gym bag You deserve to have felons carving up your face Straight firm it down put gel in This that g.m.r shit Breathe these balls you need CPR bitch The go gettas Sean Niggas know better say low sweater on, (keep it on) Bandana over the money stack Bitch get my paper, coming running back (running back) Look at little shorty with the hundred pack He got dreams of sipping lean in the Cadillac Had to tell him, living life as a felon Ain't all that it seemed to be It's even better Pendants on your chain, diamonds in your favourite letters Guns under the seat, the life of a go getta Sing your songs of survival A tower, over peons like the Eiffel Triffle Niggas I make 'em starve Your fur's too short to cop from the guard (keep it on) No consignment, all c.o.d, the price is the price That's my t.a.g It gets better, if you're cop heavy My old G's been slinging dope since rocksteady Aaaaah, I got the glow of the golden child C sick, Queens, nigga should have been the poster child Get caught up in my current, y'all niggas ain't swimmers It's a major difference between me and beginners Competitive 6 thrower, the G-spots know me Your MCM call me big homie 15 hundred for the Gucci attire If the bag is right I make your hot shit fire (smoke) Bandana over the money stack Bitch get my paper, coming running back (running back) Look at little shorty with the hundred pack He got dreams of sipping lean in the Cadillac Had to tell him, living life as a felon Ain't all that it seemed to be It's even better Pendants on your chain, diamonds in your favourite letters Guns under the seat, the life of a go getta