Could you read us a bedtime story?
Pass me the pistol
Bam, I look through the dough
I see like three, four niggas
Conductor, conductor, conductor
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, check, hey yo
Bein' fucked up for years, locked in the box is not the goal
I figured out the flip, I turned a pot of piss to pots of gold (I did)
Life a gamble like a dice roll at the Bellagio
I got the glow, big bottom hoes wanna top me slow
And buy me shit like I'm Kenny Redd
My life phenomenal
Still the same screw-faced youth that pull a nine on you
My name ring from east to west like a line of longitude
The dope dirty, cut with Fent', he died off of a line of food
Garbage dude couldn't shine my shoes, always knew
It speak volumes when you come up crazy off making solid moves
Jail was hell, somehow I found heaven in the solitude
Kept a scalpel, number eleven, front, then I'm oxin' you (for God)
Livin' rapid, Mami told me "slow down" like chopped and screwed
On the road to riches, keep a four-pound for obstacles
In the inner pocket of my mobster suit
Where I'm from, a bum'll kill you over a crumb and not lots of loot
The homie told me "stay 050" like it's '04 ('04)
Even the smartest niggas tryna know more, wisen up
Nigga died with his eyes open, he wasn't live enough
My bitch bad as fuck, body smokin', still'll line you up
Like the ruler, mind on money makin' maneuvers
Never make the news again, my legal shooter'll do ya
The Ruger spitfire like King Koopa, you niggas losers (pao, pao)
Bow and kiss the ring, I got this rap thing in a stupor
Billi' in the backseat hype, I let him hold the toy
He hopped out wylin', shootin' crazy like Soulja Boy ((pao, pao)
Got him in the frame, snapped the shots, not a Polaroid
Thousand words I never said to the pigs, keep it closed for sure
Billi' in the backseat hype, I let him hold the toy
He hopped out wylin', shootin' crazy like Soulja Boy (Soulja Boy)
Got him in the frame, snapped the shots, not a Polaroid
Thousand words I never said to the pigs, keep it closed for sure
Yeah
Them niggas pussy, they some hoes for sure (ah)
This grown man business little nigga, close the door (fuck off)
Os to snort leave noses sore (aha)
No Fenty in them bricks, the whole load was pure (wooh)
Seven figures what I gross from tour
Buffalo nigga got it feelin' like the old New York
Sent lawyer money to the bro, he gotta go to court
They tryna give him seven, he got knocked with a pole before
I can look at you and tell you never sold a brick in your life
And we know you soft, you ain't livin' the shit that you write
You so timid, it's like, who even considered you nice?
Stopped that nigga, twenty bands and I'll do tricks on the dice (ah)
Clase Azul, I mix with the Sprite
Head from two bitches, same time, that's the shit that I like (wooh, ah)
My future just like my vision, it's bright
I know it gotta suck, you niggas live a miserable life
I ain't friendly with these rap niggas, I ain't Mr. Polite
I ain't gon' give you advice
I'ma watch your soul leave your body when I dig in my knife
FN kiss 'em goodnight
Nigga that's light (machine)
Someone comes up and says something like, "I am a God"
Everybody says, "Who does he think he is?"
I just told you who I thought I was, a God!