| All I need is my family and dividends
|
| Stick with what I got, don’t need no new friends
|
| Because the truth of the matter, now that I think about it
|
| People that I thought was solid turned out to be salad
|
| Tipsy while I’m servin', smokin' urban
|
| Sippin' Kuiper Belt, that’s E-40's new bourbon
|
| I’m whiskied, I’m burnt, and I don’t care
|
| Everybody on the soil know I ain’t all the way there
|
| I like to hear myself talk, no shuttin' up
|
| Triple fit the triple shots in my cup
|
| Ready to squabble and knuckle up
|
| Prepare for altercations when confrontations 'bout to erupt
|
| Anybody can get it, ain’t nothin' changed
|
| All it take is some little itty-bitty chump change
|
| It’s triflin', it’s scandalous, shit can get sour
|
| At 4 a.m. in the morning, the murder hours
|
| Go, run (Run)
|
| Go, run (Run)
|
| Go, run (Run)
|
| Go, run (Run)
|
| Do the crime, do the time like I never left
|
| Back me up in the corner, never confess
|
| I like to drink like the midget from Game of Thrones
|
| Gamble for push-ups when I slap bones
|
| Wrist full of VVS’s, them certified stones
|
| Never know who been listening when you talkin' on them phones
|
| Gotta stay polished and crispy and buttoned-up
|
| Keep a 1911 Kimber Michael nine on the tuck
|
| Gotta watch your whereabouts, be on the hush
|
| They’ll sneak you, they’ll dirt you, shoot up your truck
|
| Laptop thieves, grab-and-go theft
|
| Church burnings and vandalism
|
| It come with the package, it’s not an option
|
| Sucker shit is in the air like a toxin
|
| I’m havin' chalupa, gettin' my gouda
|
| You don’t want smoke, you not a hookah
|
| Go, run (Run)
|
| Go, run (Run)
|
| Go, run (Run)
|
| Go, run (Run)
|
| (Droop-E on the beat) |