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Yep I'm a motherfuckin trip
I'mma trip to Japan and buy some brand new shit
900 to a grand get you 28 grams
If you talking bout' bricks I'm the interstate man.
Fuck 'em
and I don't need no crease, I'm a motherfucking gangster off Eagle Street
I don't need the Hot Boys, I still keep my heat
And I ain't gotta squad up, I still keep my feet
They call me Michelangelo, you paint them so street
But you remove that wallpaper, bet that sheet-rock weak (haha)
And you and I know what's goin' on, you probably riding to a different song
I'm probably riding on some different chrome, I'm probably high in a different zone
Take it out the wrapper, sit it on the stove
Break a gram off and put it in my bitch nose She tells me how it feels, she's numb, she's froze Bitch! wake up and help me cook these o's I gotta get my cake up see all I eat is dough I'm a dangerous mothafucka watch your feets, your toes
And to the kids, drugs kill
I'm acknowledging that
But when I'm on the drugs
I don't have a problem with that
And my niggas got guns the size of toddlers, beotch
And we aiming right at your fuckin collar, beotch
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