[Verse 1] Used to have to pitch Now I print cash with the bic The pad is a blank check Embrace death, taste flesh While the rhyme on the page is still wet Far from fictitious The cars attract the bitches I hear the whispers My palms got the blisters By the 45, you’re moisturized The oysters are fried Pull fives out the toybox Be as lonely at the top The watchband is croc The palace is a camelot Don’t ride the camel when it’s hot They channeling Pac My chairman scrambling rock While I dance to the Spanish guitar Spit the chorus To stimulate the whore’s clitoris It taste like porridge I felt rewarded from the man I ran from the warrant The high top Ewings is blue and orange Flash Gordon
[Hook] We still getting it Piping dimes on the terrace I’m thinking about my life where it’s headin I sleep with heat under the pillow The cash is where I left it, it’s nothing I watch the city while I’m fucking I’m such a glutton Gucci buckets with the Chukkas Motherfuckers
[Verse 2] As a dove flew out the glove of the magician, it was just as I predicted Reality is prescripted, Trees twisted Autistic, gorgeous hitmen escort the vixen Porsches, imported liquids To buy a snake and acquired taste, We play for higher stakes Wine and dine by the fireplace Romantic, strawberries on the coke My chariot approach I vanished, parlaying with the players Switch layers Mr. Rogers, galoshes, foxes to dance topless I hit the spot that’s erogenous, erotic Brolic hips hippopotamus, chocolate bitch The clock is a Swiss, the chronic is lit Gin and tonic, the mix, the Benz is a 6 Inside the Matrix, I’m the glitch, 357 with the rubber grip So when the beef pop, The shit don’t slip