| 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) |