Bales

Smoking a hundred dollar joint Major presentation, nigga PowerPoint Homes, hesitation never been a choice Early bird get the Rolls Royce Baby cakes Duncan Hines moist 'Cause that money make her come anywhere I am She not dumb, anytime she hear my voice Like a money machine, luxury fiend do anything Survive the cobra's clutches Hopscotch hot coals, all solid gold crutches Bitch cold ice man can't touch it Half court raining buckets Star struck bitches behaving like lightning hit 'em Hold their hearts I'm in the building Oh Lord, Andretti killed 'em When he swung that '76 glass house three wheeling Surveillance vans parked up the block trying to peep the dealings Like I don't see 'em I tell my bitch to bring 'em a nice Pitcher of ice tea since they thirsty Out right parched for the downfall of a boss Homie not me, soon as one ends another one start This is season six We take the food plate and tablecloths from a simp Off rip lock your shit And I find myself blunted With million dollar thoughts, I'm just trying to make some money Turn my rainy day sunny Frank White style, my city I run it Skinny nigga turned chubby For safety my burner under my rugby Either hate me or love me, I purple label my luggage Uh, I try my best to dodge trouble You see Spitta my brother, you catch us puffing in public Trill nigga one hundred, better yet one thousand Good God, will I make it out this jungle? I'm just a nigga from the bricks with a bitch who from London Big dog Bill Russell, from a bucket to a Hummer They say the good die young, I seen the pretty turn ugly They either shoot they stick at a bitch or shoot cutters It hurt me to my stomach so his momma cried a puddle 420 Vision from up here's mad blurry