christopher

Right off the jump, ooh, now I gots to let you know When you see me runnin' rollin' with them big shotguns, And we deep when we creep, never sleepin' And we droppin' them whamies on fools who wanna get dumb and numb Now, that you know like that These niggas come around, they don't know how to act In fact, I'm at the track in the back With a couple of my cats in the hood, smokin' weed and up to no good Red Dog in the trunk, and we rollin' that Bang or slang, now bail on over to your thugs So me and the rest of these thugs can marinade, marinade We straight, get high, so high, That's how my mental, that's how my mental state is like parlay Like everyday, don't think I don't pin playa hation But ya better pinnin' yourself, or contend with the M-11, .357 Automatic weapons from my shelf These niggas wanna take my health and wealth Check yourself, tryin' to contend, but they couldn't win You took it to the head with a fifth of Hen Now we in a red 500 Benz-o, we roll, roll Drop the top, and lock the locks, cock the glock Bout to hit this corner, livin' like a thug on the real Who's stronger when I put it on ya, on ya, all playa haters goners