[Intro]
Yo, P, what's up mane?
What's up nigga?
Man check them niggas out, finna be a millionaire
Aww, nigga, shit, it's all the same, I just got more mothafuckin' weed to smoke and more bitches to dog
Yeah, I'm sure you're right
[Verse 1: [?]]
Slingin' them rocks, thwartin' them cops, still on the block
Signed a distribution deal that y'all hoes [?] gonna stop
Now they bumpin' me, fools can't be humpin' me
I'm like some of you hoes, 'cause I still own my company
Still smokin' them trees, scratchin' that leaf, don't fuck with me
A nigga from The Rich but I was born in New Orleans
A nigga ain't humble, nigga fuck it, I'm ready to rumble
I'll still stick these steel toes in your ass and make some fuckin' gumbo
Hard [?], got many stops
And I got more fuckin' rhymes in my head than an ant pile
You gotta go diss me
I'm gonna play the teacher, dot them "I"s mothafucka, cross the "T"s
Bustin' rhymes, but y'all niggas want to drop a dime
I guess y'all hoes fuckin' mad 'cause I done got mine (big time)
Lyrical style with this loc shit
Never givin' a fuck about you, or your whole clique
Rippin' like them locs, niggas sold the coke
Fuckin' them hoes ain't sluggin' no dope
Slangin' these tapes to the world
So what the fuck you gotta say ho?
So keep my name out your mouth, with this real shit
We don't give a fuck, 'cause P ready to fuckin' kill trick
And let you knows what's the claps, ready to bust some caps
And just put The Town on the map
Yo, P, what's up mane?
What's up nigga?
Man check them niggas out, finna be a millionaire
Aww, nigga, shit, it's all the same, I just got more mothafuckin' weed to smoke and more bitches to dog
Yeah, I'm sure you're right
[Verse 1: [?]]
Slingin' them rocks, thwartin' them cops, still on the block
Signed a distribution deal that y'all hoes [?] gonna stop
Now they bumpin' me, fools can't be humpin' me
I'm like some of you hoes, 'cause I still own my company
Still smokin' them trees, scratchin' that leaf, don't fuck with me
A nigga from The Rich but I was born in New Orleans
A nigga ain't humble, nigga fuck it, I'm ready to rumble
I'll still stick these steel toes in your ass and make some fuckin' gumbo
Hard [?], got many stops
And I got more fuckin' rhymes in my head than an ant pile
You gotta go diss me
I'm gonna play the teacher, dot them "I"s mothafucka, cross the "T"s
Bustin' rhymes, but y'all niggas want to drop a dime
I guess y'all hoes fuckin' mad 'cause I done got mine (big time)
Lyrical style with this loc shit
Never givin' a fuck about you, or your whole clique
Rippin' like them locs, niggas sold the coke
Fuckin' them hoes ain't sluggin' no dope
Slangin' these tapes to the world
So what the fuck you gotta say ho?
So keep my name out your mouth, with this real shit
We don't give a fuck, 'cause P ready to fuckin' kill trick
And let you knows what's the claps, ready to bust some caps
And just put The Town on the map
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