[ Featuring Greg Street, Lloyd Banks ]
Nah Nah, I don't do all that talking man
Its one way or the either
You comin or you gonna watch another bitch leave wit me
The way this shit go, ima f*ckin rap star
[Verse]
Fresh off of the plane I jets off in the Range
First class seat but this west coast ain't the same
The rap game will put stress, fortune, and fame
A slow drive-by when they aired out Kane
S55 all cleared out chain
They body me, you body them, support there out prayin
My only wish is to find ya catcher
Lay ya ass on a stretcher, betcha, getcha, ass out the hood
All I got is rap for that, I spazz out for good
That's my income, it keeps me in Paz and Hollywood
I'm hardly home, when I leave the club the party gone
And I'm pissy off patrone, tryna get ma home
My name Banks baby, I'm top rank lady
I gotta go, grab ya coat, bitch you ain't crazy
I speed off, gainin and rushin, and bend her over somethin
And I'm pumpin, devyin till the macs and I'm frontin
All of a sudden she down on the humble for a feel
And I'm driftin in and out of lane, fumblin the wheel
A couple of miles later I be cummin on her grill
Then its back to the hotel and chill
[Chorus]
Ma I give you the rush
Damn ma, ya lil outfit got my third hand high
And I need ya to understand I
Ain't really got a lot of time, bitch out ya mind its me
Damn blood, don't you wanna get up out them handcuffs
I ain't gonna love you like ya man does
I ain't got a lot of time, bitch out ya mind
