Pane Redda

[Chorus]
Hmm
I can't get tired of that bitch
And I asked bitch that if she still would fuck with the kid
If young Redda, he wasn't so rich
I'm on the juice, I'm on the 'pane
She want some shoes, that bitch she insane
He talk 'bout the gang we put one in his brain
That boy he a lame, please stay in yo' lane
And I be gettin' so high like a crane
We sendin' them shots like this shit was Ukraine
I took his bitch and there's no one to blame (Yuh)
I'm boutta' get high, I ain't talkin' bout' no plane
Got a big buss down, I can't fuck wit' the plain
Boutta' pour me a four of this good purple rain
She wanna fuck wit' the kid she a thot
And that bitch for the streets, mad hoe for the block
That man, that young Redda, he high like a [?]
But he smell like [?], smell like Baccarat (Yuh)
I keep a big four four like Barack
Hit the opps wit' a [?]
[?]
Bitch I be rockin' out like it was rock
And that bitch goin' crazy, she like Chrisean Rock
She dancin', she goin' crazy for the cock
And I heard he a rapper now, boy he gon' flop
I shoot that boy in some designer, can't flop (Yea)
They say they cool wit' me, really they not
If you wanna get rid of me, you better plot
But that's really not easy, I'm makin' it hard
In the Lamb truck I'm makin' it far (Yuh)
I go fast in the muhfuckin' car
Lamb truck all black like some tar
Yuh yuh, fuck 12 I can't fuck wit' the law