Uh, yeah

Aye Roc, I gotta talk my shit

You feel me?

'Cause life been different

You know what I'm sayin'?

I be ducked off and shit

Nothin' but slow bunnies

Bitches with big money

You feel me?

Uh, yeah, hold on

Let me catch my shit

Uh, yeah

Pre-approved for some millions, oh Lord, what a feelin'

When you did it on your own, custom lights in the ceilin'

Oriental rugs and hotel rooms full of women

Coconut watch feel like dust when you sniff it

And they gave watered down, feel like Brita with no filter

They let everybody in, hard to tell who really with it

Few got it out the mud, the rest lied and said they did it

Cappin' 'bout bitches they hang with and said they hit it

But they didn't, man, them **** simpin'

She laughin' with her friends behind your back, you should've listened

To a **** like P, it's capital for the pimpin'

That's why I hit the Belaire and the bitch pay, I'm never trippin'

'Cause they praise the most high, it's P, I'm your religion

Thirty somethin' with no kids, it's amazin' to her

Her friends ravin' to her, the crib wasn't vacant at first

I had the stable full of stallions who paid for the verse

Furniture from Italy, the same brand it say on her purse

Your girl say I'm a keeper, but believe I ain't savin' you, girl

Just come and bickin' for the weekend like live in my world

Breakfast at Tiffany's, bitch, you still in the little leagues

I just hopped a flight in Sicily, eatin' on squid and things

They say it's the little things, but ho, I got big dreams

I'm from where it's wild at, I play for a real team

Westside players only, bitch, I play in the big leagues