| Conductor, we have a pr-
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| Uh
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| Now I have news about my CD player
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| Conductor
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| All praises, Allah saved us (Hah)
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| Used to send the lil' homie to the store to get us more razors (Get two
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| sandwich bags)
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| Now I see my name written in Forbes pages (Uh-huh)
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| Don’t think 'cause the boy famous, I ain’t more dangerous (Woo)
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| More flagrant (Ah), tap danced on the work, Sammy Davis
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| My nigga had twenty, walk the shit down
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| Only thing he had was Allah and patience
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| Gallery Department, leave his own paint on the laces (Yeah)
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| Might push the Corniche, velour seats (Uh-huh)
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| Got it out the mud, still in the field, Dior cleats
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| Pop gon' hide the body, they won’t find you for four weeks (Boom boom boom)
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| Listen to they album, that shit all weak, we pour Cliq' (Hah)
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| Ayo, Wrestlemania ten years straight, floor seats
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| Porsche, Jeeps (Skrrt), MACs hangin' out, his brains blew four feet
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| I dry real niggas tears 'cause I seen that
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| The rest of Sly life he gotta use CorrLinks (Ah)
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| Uh, I know these pussy niggas mad I made it
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| Lost two hundred racks, I took the PJ back to Vegas (Hahahaha)
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| Million dollar deals, I been becomin' more acclimated (Uh-huh)
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| Her pussy good, ain’t had no smell, I had to ate it (Come here, bitch)
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| I had a brick, he needed nine, I had to break it (Conductor)
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| Two-tone bags, back to back, Ksubis faded
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| The ones truly, shoot up your house, hit you with (Brr, brr, brr)
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| He sniffed a line and got rejuvenated
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| Uh, Machine, bitch, I spit on one of your kids (Hah)
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| My dog locked, I wish I could split up one of his bids (Free the homie)
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| You take ten, I take ten, it is what it is (I'll do ten)
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| We gon' come come home together and do it big (We comin' home)
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| Ayo, bullets felt like bear hugs, two in his ribs (Boom boom boom boom boom
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| boom, ah)
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| Feds raided, didn’t find shit, two in the fridge (Ah)
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| Shot your block up, the whole street know what I did (Brr, brr, brr, brr, brr)
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| Momma Love came out screamin' out, «My baby» (Not my baby) |