If they shootin' on the hill then I'm-a stay home
Heard your boy was snitchin' on the payphone
He calling the jakes, he fuck with State Farm
All these other bitches were just made wrong
You need some fire I got gas, just throw my tape on
I been in the business since day one
I flipped a hundred packs, and I ain't ate one
Now I need a plate to cut my cake on
Bitch I'm on the mothafuckin moon, oh boy
You ain't hangin' with the fuckin crew, oh boy
I got J's and K's and L's like I'm the alphabet
I trap out the townhouse, you should see this shit
I stay with the baby like I'm good with kids
Now I'm cashin' out like I got poker chips
I been in the drop
We to the spot now
I just copped an ounce
That fuckin' Paquiao
I'm a chop it down
Pass all my baggies out
Oh you know the sound
Only fuckin' with the loud
Bitch I'm on the mothafuckin moon, oh boy
You ain't hangin' with the fuckin crew, oh boy
