My walk talk for me My whip talk for me My gat talk for me Blah, whatever homie Louie told me, "Go and switch your style up" So haters be watchin' my money pile up Fuck it, my pockets is gettin' wider I'm fuckin', she's suckin', and gettin' louder And the room, full of hoes, fuckin' hooligans This tone of violence be sprayin' whoever listening Fuck the world when they be listening I'm killin' 'em Like cuts to your Michelin, keep listenin' The glove don't fit like I got away The white Bronco, that's a getaway Fuck bitches in the slums, that's my getaway Kill Rich's grace under pressure, Hemingway You sweatin', you nervous, why? 'Cuz your bitch be spittin' my verses? My beats break necks, so bring the hearse Skinny sand nigga with a crew full of turbans Throw my click up, girls want to sip up Order more bottles, let 'em hoes drink up Money not an issue, my withdrawls need a pick-up My dick up when I watch my wrists freeze like a stickup Pull up like a cop pullin' over Like Gotti in the gotti, move over Like a [?] comin' at you with his hostler Like Manson in a mansion stickin' knives to your throat Red eyes from the marijuana Better put your shades on when the camera's on ya Can't help but smile cause my pockets full of cheese And I came to the game with all odds against me