with one stroke of the pen i tune in to your satellite radio
or fm station; i've been patiently waitin
been under construction for two years
but now it's 'bout that time i double-dutch my way in
it's like the game is haunted cause there's so many ghostwriters
see i'm a lifer with supply that may seem endless
straight rider like a biker on a chopper with a hitlist
the nigga that spit that vicious
pitbull attack shit when it comes to this rap shit
i know some of y'all done wrote a nigga off
like the leases on these cars and these homes you niggaz thought
with so many bosses why are they still
layin niggaz off they job? nigga for real
gon' give a nigga a gig then
help a brother get up out this pigpen
but nobody wants to keep it pimpin or 110
so with this pen i begin to illustrate from within
paint a pretty picture like i'm chillin with my friends
everybody's got a pocket full of ends to spend
see picasso couldn't blend
put it all together or fit in
i'm like a crocodile walkin 'round with alligator skin
the product of the ghetto where i lived
call me spongebob boy soaked up game as a little bitty kid
before the fame i was the shit
why don't you come and find out
see we not even gonna play with 'em either
we gon' la-la-lay it down every fuckin time we see 'em
the beginnin before the beginnin
spend it how you spend it
if you sell dope nigga stack it when you get it
or spend it until it's gone
that's slippery business holmes
gon' get you a business loan
now i lay you niggaz down
you already sleep so bitch rest in eternal peace
you still scared of the boogeyman?
i know you hatin but you know you was a 'kast and a goodie fan
i put these lyrics up your ass so far you never get the mic out
i know who you wanna sound like
with that fruity loop bullshit