Lyrics
We got big bank, big rank
Walkin through the club like my shit don’t stank
Remember back in the day we used to sport fox
Izod alligator shirt with the socks
Louie Vuitton, I used to rock it like farm
Gucci with the tag, not painted on
Now them days done gone, and shit done changed
I went from a bronco to a six range
Nawmakazel, now it’s Cartier frames
Light weight chains, princess cuts mang
Chedda like velvetta, I’m in the club
V.I.P, with a black heata
Thug drama, smokin on blue sticky
They see me ballin in this game
And they wanna hit me. (Cog-nonsense)
Lets go, giocanna eyes low
Two-way E, tell 'em to meet us at Roscoes
Ball til I Fall, thats my motto
In LA, NY even in Flo
Sittin on 'tractin rims
Wit' a mexican, took X again
Want sex again
Jot it down, it was told to me
By that boy, A.K.A. The P-O-E
Deep in ya brain, the nigga you can’t stand
Most get upset when I switch cris hands
Shoulda left band, it gets worser man
Ice so bright, you salute both hands. (switzin')
To the dot 6 we ride, got two chicks that promise to say Ahh
We’ll pop a X and swallow between thighs
Yall get it right, while I chase the sky
Been here, been bubblin' like coke pots
Boy, I can’t stop
Bentley, Lex or a drop top
The fo' on, ?? soft leather til pop
Lyrically man, niggas to the turf like cops. (goddamn)
Little mama got class, absolutely, Gucci dime ass
Oooh, I wanna hit it from the back til ya cry
Cognito, you the best I won’t lieeee
V.I.P, you know me, mob related
Toast style like Kool & the gang, celebratin'
Guns stay cocked, why not? It’s real life
Cause playin' in this game you lose your real life
Ain’t it a shame the way the ferrari vibrate the body
Collectin mo' chips than laser sex parties
Me, I, be with the P-O-E
Til I’m calm, restin the box with crossed arms
The beat double, look around where you say it cause
Its like trouble
Who’s watchin? My man Ricky Ross
Six-six giocanna, twelve and don’t test the calico wrist
Can’t forget E-class, sniper-like
Even if peripheral view, you lose sight
With so much ice, we turn night into day
We too fly, in front of the Source awards
Red Eyeeeee
Walkin through the club, like my shit don’t stank