I’m never switching on this one way direction. If I were to look back, I know I’d lose all concentration. Sure it ain’t easy with that barrel in your face. Fuck all hesitation, my shit tucked behind. I got my back against the wall. Now nothing coming I can see that’s your flaw. No hindsight, I can now see on each side. When you’re riding loaded, never get to showing. Whoever wanted to be caught up? I only slip through a bitch. I pray I’m never locked up. Fighting for a crude title waiting for no flow, I was barely birthed muhfucka I’m eager to grow. I can never be foolish. Even on some new shit, I’m mindful ‘bout the flip. I’d buy out any time if the price is right. All pushers known for being precise, players got the dice, I bring both to the table, my aces high.

High off my ass and I don’t know how to get down. My G’s moving silently and they don’t make a sound. Smoke by the pound. Practice all day so I don’t miss my rounds, send in the hounds, that’s when I dance with my victory crowns, look at me now. Stop your thoughts if you don’t know what I’m thinking, and if you do, I hope you know your girl’s pussy’s stinking, not from me though. That’s because your girl is a freak hoe. I heard they be calling her a free show, like a movie day in class, that’s that Finding Nemo, you would never find me in a trap, I’d go out like Al Pacino, throw like Uncle Rico. Spend the cash, head to the casino, wearing the freshest of the tuxedos. Pull up in the El Camino. The glass is mine if it’s the primo vino, go and hit up SACHI for the line, but it ain’t no cheap coke. That’s ‘cause we only fuck with the finest, the white you see is always shining brightest, never lowkey in the slightest. The type to make you feel the highest. 98CAINE is here to tell what the vibe is, I ain’t fucking lying.

This that Devil in disguise shit. Different fashion coming for your soul, like assassins. You be blinded by the fake, need some glasses. Hundreds in the safe, not the mattress. Only thing on your mind is the malice. Different shades of grey, different palette. Pouring shots, pouring up by the gallon, got the green, no salad. You be stuck in a daze, shady like the trees, all of the fake. Falling like the leaves, haunting my dreams. Man, I think that I see ghosts gone with the wind, don’t you feel the breeze? This that cruising in my fucking whip shit, windows down, smoking weed while I handle business. I be living like a king, you still on your prince shit. I be ill, no sickness. All about the dough, but we ain’t out here making biscuits. The competition non-existent. All up in the mix bitch. This that 20 inch chrome on the fucking whip shit.