Hey, put a towel underneath the door Open the windows up Oh man
Don´t you call the cops, I´m smokin´ on that killa
I´m so super lit I can´t even fight the feelin´ Told my kids that daddy must go get the millions Pull up with the top, I left without the ceiling
I´m on to bag play I´m in a great space Ain´t with the fake love, I won´t even handshake The real niggas fuck with me, I´m talkin´ the long way I jump on the beat hungry, I make it a entree
I am not fighting the feeling I gotta be one of the realest Really though, one of the illest Mentally fully committed Ain´t no sauce for the free Ain´t no land of the free Ain´t no hand-out, let me find out, nothing´s here for the cheap
I´mma rise to occasion, every time we arrange it I´m alive, nigga, get in line, still ahead of time with the cadance No flaws, no flagging Murder scene, new caskets Boy, it´s feeling like the first time Frank Lucas hit with Blue Magic God
Oh shit, I think that´s them people at the door [Zeek?] I think we done packed too much gelato in the (?) fool Yeah, fuck it
Don´t you call the cops, I´m smokin´ on that killa I´m so super lit I can´t even fight the feelin´
Told my kids that daddy must go get the millions Pull up with the top, I left without the ceiling
I´m on to bag play (yeah, yeah) I´m in a great space (yeah, yeah) Ain´t with the fake love (no way) I won´t even handshake (no way) The real niggas fuck with me, I´m talkin´ the long way I jump on the beat hungry, I make it a entree (did that)
Ready or not, fuck if you ready or not Niggas be talking a lot Claimin´ they hot "Fuck is you talkin´ about?" Niggas they wanna be ´Pac You could get shot like him
You know the flow on a old diaper Ain´t no containin´ a (?) Cannot compare to a Leonitas Phone jumpin´ off-hook I´m in my robe when I cook I´m centerfoldin´ my looks I´m tired on schoolin´ you rooks Turned the ´telly to the trap Different season on the raps Smokin loud, trying to hold it down Fuck it, neighbors hatin´ on the low Any city, I´mma pull up in it, make a fuckin´ movie at the show Made a killin´ at the door I´ve been living on the road Fans feed my soul Keep on feedin´ ´em tho I heard a knock at that door
Don´t you call the cops, I´m smokin´ on that killa I´m so super lit I can´t even fight the feelin´ Told my kids that daddy must go get the millions Pull up with the top, I left without the ceiling
I´m on to bag play (yeah, yeah) I´m in a great space (yeah, yeah) Ain´t with the fake love, I won´t even handshake (oh no) The real niggas fuck with me, I´m talkin´ the long way I jump on the beat hungry, I make it my entree (did that)
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