Steady ridin' low, eyes steady swole
Feel like Death Row, 1994
$uicide tears, drippin' off our mothers
Bullets in the chamber of the pistol in the cupboard
Got a couple black tees with that indo sparkin'
Bitch, don't even look my way, 'cause I fuckin' hate talkin'
Got them spinners on the hearse, bitches for dessert
Pour me up a fo', I'm sippin' codeine 'til the dirt
Ridin' 'round Texas in a Lexus with a Florida license plate
Outta state, eatin' grapes, blowin' dank, no yank, bitch
Dry as fuckin' weed
$lick, havin' a panic attack with the Mac on his lap, and now he makin' beats
Smurf in the back tryna get some sleep
Gas tank on E, not a stain on me, sunset, cool breeze
Lookin' at the moon, and then I turn into a goon
I'm doin' what I please, throwin' up some fuckin' threes
Slide in deep while I'm tipped, tryna run cash up
Steady fiendin' more income like
"Damn, bruh, what I gotta do to get out of these problems I'm facin'?"
Light a smooth J in my right hand
Got bitches just like U2
Get the cash, man, I didn't always have for the cab, man
Ain't no tellin' what a nigga do to you
Shake your hand or just shoot through you
I'm the man that you show respect when seen cruisin' through
Either that or get that ass fanned up
Matter of fact, I rather run bands up
Meet the pocket chopper, mini rocket-launcher
Stay out the way, or get bagged up, nigga
