
Date of issue: 27.02.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Greenstreets Entertainment
Song language: English
Golden State |
Don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that |
Follow the leader flow, midget jumping out my top hat |
I’m going hood, going platinum in the projects |
Diamond at the neighborhood, liquor store |
Passport, poetry, dough, the passion and pope |
Ask about acrobatical show, mechanical |
Mathematical, I’m back telling it |
Back on my element, that settles it |
To peoples played out you never did |
Classic ill niggas my claw |
Fall back before the bread I was bred to be the boss |
Talk right in exact |
Freedom of death minus the word that wisdom reflect |
This ain’t the checks |
These are the words that I manifest |
It goes yes yes y’all |
30,000 dollars of Remy bottles is staring at me |
Nigga let’s ball, god could never be a mystery, you feel me? |
Cause in the heavens and the earth he always was, forever will be |
I came to wake you up, the shit is fake as fuck |
Fools is breaking up, cause they ain’t caking up |
All it takes is a little faith |
Before you blow dough you better off investin some real estate |
Stack it and just wait couple months you’ll be great |
Same as a nigga holdin weight |
Ain’t no joking when it’s dough to make |
I keep a soldier face |
This is life in the golden state |
Only thing women respect is dollars |
Even neglect scholars |
Bunch of evil visions as baby mamas |
Pimps patrol like piranhas, renegades wander |
They end up choosing with honors |
I’m just a don of all genres |
Best known for throwing molotov bars and flesh eating acid at your armor |
Fans get it twisted with my first shit but I was in training |
I’m just a thug with esoteric verses |
That’ll clack out with you |
Cop, cook, count, Bag it up |
And distribute the product from the crackhouse with you |
Splashing with more fashion than Fairfax |
Raw dog like when I bareback tracks, tropical airmax |
I’m not the one to share my snacks |
These labels gotta pay me in racks, because the belt is black |
And for the fact the fans never felt me slack |
Honestly, it’s nothing I lack |
Now what’s fucking with that, got hundreds of these up in the hat |
It’s like back to back phantoms and a couple lac’s |
Song tags: #Window Seater #Shinery
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