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(J.R. Writer) |
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Holla |
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No sorrow haters wrapped in a Tahoe |
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For all those who saw J smash the Apollo yikes |
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All covered in ice like I was standing in Times Square |
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On "The Day After Tomorrow" holla |
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I'm in to bigger dough, sicker flow |
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Rocky dial what make it possible to Rocky-bow hit your hoe |
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I feel like Bigelow 'cause ever since I got the churp number |
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All I been hearing was bleep like the Springer show |
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I got Poppa Al money you got pocket-style money |
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Doggie, these maurie's try a thou' dunny |
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Girl's dropping wild funny |
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Soon as I step in and want to grab on the gator like Crocodile Dundy |
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See I'm the worst round, you'll hit the dirt ground |
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I surf towns in Jaguars that's dirt brown |
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I know it hurt clown, to see me laid in a suite |
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Under sheets, stuffed with more feathers than a First Down |
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Comfortable |
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(Hell Rell) |
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Yo |
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I copped a couple K's for the beef when it goes down |
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I told niggaz that they couldn't eat in they own town |
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Fuck off the strip, for I bust off a clip |
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My time is money I got to get the fuck off this brick |
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Follow me around and we'll see the life of a hustler |
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Follow you around and we'll see the life of a buster |
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Beat down, smacked up, robbed every minute |
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And my soldiers, they treat me like I'm God every minute |
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Hot as a fuck, but don't get acknowledged enough |
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This is grade-A piff you got garbage to puff |
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And when it come to my rocks get it polished and buffed |
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Same thing with your girl I get polished and buffed |
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A few bricks on the table, I'm smoking by the pound |
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If I don't blow I'm on the next thing smoking out of town |
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I'm sitting on grenades, I'm sitting on some blades |
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Yay, flip it suede fitted sitting on my braids |
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Nigga I got gats to tuck and Cadillac the truck |
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I deal with mathematics homeboy and you ain't adding up |
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Two plus two don't equal five |
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I eat the truth but feed you lies you bitch nigga |
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And I ain't ask to come through, man I'm barging out |
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From now on you address me as ? |
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(40 Cal) |
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I'm the kid from 140 baby |
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40 making all the cake |
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My dope like tsunami, I kill 'em off a water weight |
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You play 50 get your story straight |
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Niggaz up in 50 minus 2, that's ya number due, the 48 |
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Well do the math, the nigga's a problem |
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You broke, ya dead broke when I kill 'em and rob 'em |
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40, niggaz think they can call shots. |
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Y'all ain't got no winds you lost hair like a bald spot |
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You want the Tupac Shakur props? |
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But it's like a disease now 'cause all y'all got is smallpox |
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And that's off top at ya door with 4 knocks |
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40 catch vicks in they halls like coughdrops |
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Porsche box, school you how to sell the coke-a |
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'Cause "Diplomat" without the "t" spells diploma |
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Tryna, tell you dolja, the flame in ya ass |
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The game in a smash, 40 keep his name in a stash |
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You the type to go to jail, turn ya name to Shebazz |
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I'm a menace, the O-Dog with the 'Caine on the ave |
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40 |
