Ritz Barlton Westside Gunn (Ft. Estee Nack)

[Intro: Estee Nack]
Ayy, yo, yo, yo (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Nackman (Nackie Chan, nigga)
You know what I mean?
Bodega to the barber shops (Yeah)
Uh-huh (I did)
Acid tab for the astronauts (Peligro, nigga)
You got the shit locked, yo (This paper, son)
Son (Yo)

[Verse 1: Estee Nack]
As far as nine in the vest goes, I'm a hooper (Splat)
Locked eyes with bitches and then froze like Medusa, yeah (Yeah)
They ready to struggle, Chet blow like a hookah (Woah)
Swallow it back to the best, snow like a boots, crack's Kama Sutra (Oh, yeah)
Nackman super, money like Mansa Musa (Yeah)
Few should poor us, helpin' clear the future, fight the feeling (Skrrt)
We out at nightclub hours, see that's the type of chillin' (Nightime)
You know I'ma bring in more than the eyesight
The villain how he's feeling (Which one went up?)
Lil' beef motherfuckers, the night is still
Sittin' they ass down just like hype children (Fuck outta here)
Bright grill 'em 'bout slice a million
Twin bitches, that means twice Brazilian (Blah)
Sit on the throne, yo, my name ring (Brring)
Bells en el bajo mundo, they know my name well (Nack)
Survivors came before the fame helped (Ad-libs)
How the motherfuckers in control of the game? Tell (Yeah)
Break the scale, a mixed powdered brick that the North can't sell (Woah)