[ Featuring Meyhem Lauren ]
Yeah (La musica de Harry Fraud)
Smack lames, Versace frames cover my iris
Stay alert, never show my eyelids
I'm the livest provide bliss in baggies
Pushing 5 wagons and Caddies
See them banging chicks with fatties
We them bitches baby daddies probably, maybe
Oh shit, it could be possible
Y'all niggas couldn't see me
I'm a young optical obstacle
Gorilla bread, moving like a beast
Looking phenomenal
Hit 'em in they face with brakes
If not splash the abdominal
You might have seen me in
A cardigan rocking a monocle
Grease my feet and leave the
Murder scene with every follicle diabolical
The drink is spiked with something soluble
Keep it hood, y'all niggas talking good
But then we follow through think about it
My niggas'll follow you then hollow you
That's word to what I rep
So show respect to what the dollar do
Hear us rhyme and see us shine
And then you'll see it's true
You faggots blew a tranny and
You never owned a vehicle word
(coughs) yeah, I'm a f*cking laid back guy
Man i don't know why everybody wants
To f*cking have a problem
Guess when you going places man
You know how that go
Yo, yo chopping wood
Sweater smelling like the fireplace
Look in a mirror, see a lion's face
Whip spicy like a Cayenne
You ain't tryna get this money, motherf*cker
Well I am bitches from Thailand
Get turned to moo goo gai pan
Pumping voodoo, drinking Yoohoo
Shawty put the poodle when she doo doo
You motherf*ckers acting new-new
Put you in a tutu
Nobody even recognize the new you
Yeah, cut your dick, made a pussy with it
Bitch, I'm Ronnie Coleman
You a rookie with it
Queens to Brooklyn, shit it
Glenfiddich, neat
Or rather unique down to my feet
Linen shorts, set brown
Stop right at the kneecap
I love this, but I don't need rap
Yo f*ck your feedback
And suck my dick to the haters
That's why I whip the 5 wagon
Gators all flavors, bitch
