[Produced by Dolla Bill Kidz]

(Verse 1)
The streets late My feet pace
Been a supplier like umpires and sweep base
My peeps ate 2 Os on each plate
I string 'em in every loop hole like my sneaks lace

If you the man hired we goin' see ya
Cold world like garbage can fires we palm heat
The don speak rocking Don C pouring Don P
Coke party it's blow out here like Don King

Uh, It's that '70s Guy Fisher style
Acquitted trial they got Nicky so I'm the n***a now
Apollo bout Lincoln limousines to get around
When I'm around that's a hundred keys that's in the town


(Verse 2)
Yo what do he know you want it 30 a kilo
A hundred with more than 3 tho I'm coming just me and Chino
He like Sam from Casino could get you done up in Reno
Lift the gun up the eagle and hit up one of your peoples no lie

I'm back traveling in a black Caravan
On the corner pushing water back paddling
I hit the store up like I'm poor to act arrogant
They shoot each other over orders Smack battling
Funny guy you look bummy why?
They want you dead one in ya head like how Sonny died
Caobo pay the bread or see the sunny skies
Have your whole shit red from the .45


(Verse 3)
Yo the streets is mean Duke so be tough
My slime locked where they see blue and bleed much
Mess hall in the green suit with a green cup
It's our idea they can't squeeze shoot get 3 cuts

Or poke knifes in his chest in his throat slice
Make sure his rope tight hang him up from a pole light
My .44 bright gold yellow and no ice
Grinding the whole night hiding dope in some old rice

Rubber band on every bundle hand
For a couple grand I'll turn into Thunder Dan
Son of Blam who you come with fam?
Half a mill go want on the wall I'm a wanted man Damn!