Banks Workout, Pt. 2

I Been problem since the old days pimps and gold caps now im in oj simpson throwbacks ya'll was wonderin where my ass been probally vacationin on south beach gettin head like ass breathin through gas i can let the tech pound ur ego lock you in the closet with the westnile mosquito the press crowd the people espicially celebritys im heavily shittin on any tom dick or gregory nigga you better be strappin they want you dead if you rappin im tryin to cave your head and your back in im gettin bread and relaxin and attractin a fan base of females wit emails and letters to fax in in vegas with a toaster n a blunt and the hotel i checked in got a roller coaster in the front hollerin poster when i stunt the sammy sosa of the month better yet the hoe teas and nigga im still breathin even though my dollars are green i rap for the kids thats to poor to waste eggs on halloween im gettin swallow clean my habits are good collectin all the carrots i could slidin from the stash box to conceal extortion and a good silencer to make it sound like the wheel of fortune all this careless talkin cause im travelin and flossin havin a good time and u havin a abortion you sucker for love gettin married and divorced than you cant even afford the batteries for ur walkman man im out the hood burnin cali weed on slauson when set trip can turn to tragedys and coffins, look i mean what im sayin you schemin im sprayin ur team isnt playin on the sofa screamin and and prayin sayin gunit niggas be rollin crazy holdin 80s older ladies starin cause they starin in that gold mercedes since 50 hooked up with shady now they tryin to brook up to pay me if u think im sugar u crazy baby the boy strapped two ninas smokin out a bag big enough to fit in vacuum cleaners i wear a glove when i blaze a fatty, i aint ur baby daddy, u flippin now he tryin to grab me out that navy caddie, i aint ur avy, poppa was a rollin stone, stockin up the hona home, pocket full of loaded chrome, drop n get a hold a dome, i know ur motive homes, u mad cause im fuckin half ur motorolla phone, im swift with the wemon im good wit my words, alota, niggas is hatin on what i deserve im hotta, front if u want end up on the curb in ur prada, and ur mans runnin ambulance come, another day another dollar on the low from the impala i can have a six some in my shower, mother fucka!