Yeah, yeah
Woke up one morning
To see my niggas from high school
Check it out
Babe Reg, Mr. Doctor, Foe Loco
Woke up one morning out some bomb-ass cock
My dick kinda limp so I cruise around the block
Call my cousin Doc as I swoop in the drop
Stop by my homie Foe house to puff on the ounce
Seen my little homie Twamp who I ain't seen in a while
Nigga gone been floatin on clout nine
Headed to the Liquor sto', got some mixed gin and juice
Got a quarter pound of kills so I'm fucced up for real
Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve
Bailed back in the crib (for what?)
Because I'm all-in
Conversated then I dug the hoe out
I fixed me some food, then go the hell out
Two A.M. on the diz-ot, I pause and I stiz-op
I reminisce on that ass that I riz-occed
And now I'm high as a kite
Yeah, and I'm feelin alright
Four A.M. as I stoll back to my crib
To see what's with my woman and my newborn kid
With my mind on my money and my money on my mind
We do this everyday about the same time, be-otch!
Up at Rosemont Park one day
That's when I saw her face
She looked kind of cavi to me
And when I take her home, and tap that ass I'm gone
I'm just a hog, don't blame me
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Now do I love them hoes? (Nigga hell naw)
And why is that? (Because we some gangsta's Doc)
And we don't never give a fuck about no bitch to Odysea
Bitches ain't shit but hoes and tricks
Hah hah hah, dee dee dadi duh
Listen to the sounds from my nigga Mr. Doc
While I slide through the city in the rag six-tre'
Hoppin' like a motherfucker tryin' to find some play
Hittin' all the spots but I'm comin' up blank
I'm headed to the liquor store to get myself some drink
Parks my ride as I, steps inside, as I
Slips my Colt 45 by my side, as I
Continue with my mission
Pussy is my dish and I'm dishin', dishin'
Upon a star, to come up on so me ends for my caviar
And a little bit of pussy
So I can get my pimp on
Cause my pig gets my pimp on from G to Odysea, nigga
I put my pen, on cold Ohio nights
And the bitch didn't freeze up when I wanted her to write
Put my pen in the hot California sun
And the bitch didn't swear nor run
What's up girl, you know you look good
But you gotta pay me cuz you ain't from my hood
I need skrills, gotta pay the bills
And you lookin' kinda over the hills
Make my money, bring it home
Cuz I don't wanna have to knock you on your dome
Bitch, where my money at?
Don't start to runnin' batch
I might have to slap you
Don't wanna have to slap you
Don't wanna have to bag you
Up of the N
Up off the North, up off the South
Up off the East and West
Bitch, them breasts is my tits
I own you, I want all of it
I'm the balla bitch
Bring all my skrills cuz you know
