Eastside Moonwalker

Lifestyles of the insane

Eastside thug ****, I'm the shit, you a shit stain

I let the box frame switched lanes

I'm not a pretty **** but I got some game for a bitch brain

And I lay it on so thick

Charge it all to a broad, heard a pimp **** quote this

And I'm allergic to a broke bitch

I think I need my medicine, I had to po up 'fore I wrote this

And doing dirt will keep a **** with a deep pocket

Dope friends and cluck heads keep me shopping

Steady praying that the yayo keeping clocking

Keep a strap 'cause the jack boys keep robbing

Got me pulling up slow

Rip another clip and put my pedal to the floor

Slamming Cadillac doors, work the wood like a pro

Ass sit on nothing but that leather whatcha know, how ya living ****?

Lifestyles of the insane

Blow the key, pop a pill, crack a seal, I resist pain

**** looking for that big stain

Dirt weed, dog food, fire kush, **** flip 'caine

Think I lost my religion

Stepping on a pack, break 'em off in the kitchen

Chevy topped off with the chrome in the engine

**** gotta floss, that's the cost of this pimping

I'ma pull up slow

I'ma pull up slow

Candy paint dripping from my Cadillac door

I'ma pull up slow

I'ma pull up slow

Run up with the mask, put them hos on the floor

I'ma pull up slow

I'ma pull up slow

Run up with the mask, put them hos on the floor

I'ma pull up slow

I'ma pull up slow

Candy paint dripping from my Cadillac door

I'ma pull up slow

It's the muddy cup moonwalker, night stalker

Motherfucking white chalk-er, might've caught ya

In the streets with your pants down

Tell 'em call the paramedics, **** man down

Ease up if ya thuggin' get ya g's up

And never fake, never fraud, never fold, never freeze up

A black mask, black tee'd up

The motherfucking dope game feed us

How ya living ****?

And rest in peace to my motherfucking homeboy

But hold ya tears, he ain't die, he just a fuckboy

He might as well be a dead man in my eyes

Two-two-three, sucker free when I ride

Freddie Kane, Freddie Corleone

Selling thangs to the smokers in the mobile homes

A pack of backwoods, dirty styrofoam and a pocket full of stones

In my Cadillac Brougham, I'ma pull up slow

I'ma pull up slow

Candy paint dripping from my Cadillac door

I'ma pull up slow

I'ma pull up slow

Run up with the mask, put them hos on the floor

I'ma pull up slow

I'ma pull up slow

Run up with the mask, put them hos on the floor

I'ma pull up slow

I'ma pull up slow

Candy paint dripping from my Cadillac door

I'ma pull up slow

Uh