comedy central
Say dawg, let's not get involved
You don't wanna tango, I'll dress you in a halo
Cock the gauge, polka dot your braids
Face you with a chrome 4 that'll lock your legs
And you can't move, I roll big and I can't lose
They watch so hard, ain't nothing I do that ain't news
Carry it like I'm a stranger to the game
I cut short any whisper that endanger my name
I hold toasts on both coasts, not for no joke
I'm known in the streets on the account I know coke
And we got word that the cops watch us
But that don't stop us, we maneuver and move a little more cautious
I hate to think that the dope game is my callin'
Cause it got us singing lullabies to our fallen:
"Good night friend, 'til we meet again
But for now in your name, we re-up and eat again"
Uh, I never front like I'm something I'm not
But being broke, well that's just something I'm not
Y'all talk with hatred, but I live off that
And I lived off cocaine way 'fore I lived off rap
Feel me, friend, if they could, they'd kill me, friend
Cause I weigh too much, learned not to say too much
They couldn't take me in the CL, that's way too much
And I'm too gone, y'all niggas can talk on
They call me Mr. Please-Believe-It, believe it please
I put the pump in your mouth and help you breath with ease
This guy's in a hurry
Ma, I can't even fuck with you if you ain't in the itinerary
I don't know where dudes is buying their jewelry
Why's your ice cream, like it's made by Ben & Jerry?
Y'all the type of players that be getting two-day contracts
E-mail snitch got Ds in your two-way contacts
I'm in the club sippin' on that new 'Ze cognac
In the number 9 Jordans with the deuce trey on back
The Street Family so cool, we could pull bitches
Even if it was July and we had on Woolrich's
I got them teflons, to shove in the 4
That have undercovers and po', recovering slow
The government know, the kid been loving the dough
Since I was moving white off the curb like shoveling snow
Ghetto
I keep the streets so numb they call me "Novocaine"
I turn over 'caine, over and over again
Hell, so much clientele
I could lose it all today, be back the next day
Still up in the same way
As I left ya, all in three gestures: down, up and aim
I can define death better than Webster, wet ya
Now bless ya, and off to my next venture
Blocks so white, June look like December
Wintertime: snow everywhere, flow everywhere
So much dough, I fly my hoes everywhere
Ask him, Pusha T, Pusha-Ton
Push a ton of that shit that makes ya nose run
Yes I'm holding, whether it's heat or coke in
In the door panel of my four-wheel motion
Ain't jokin', but I laugh how other flows convince you
It's money, it's funny, it's Comedy Central
Mine's mental, others is made up stencil
When I'm on vacation, my babies ride in a rental
I'm livid, they act as if I don't live it
Saran wrap Vaseline, so they can't sniff it
Yves St. Laurent knitted, shorts bermuda
You would think they was Pucci if you overlooked Medusa