Saint Maurice

Come to Buffalo and see how we rockin'

They ain't even wanna consider us, but now we the topic

I was really in the trenches, tryna make me a profit

I'm talkin' bundles for the egg, moulds of pounds for the locket

With no sponsor, I still got my stripes, like Monster

Now niggas just look good next to great, Smush Parker (yo)

Come get some, I'm givin' out work, James Fonda (yeah)

I put you in a blender like ingredients at Jamba, mother (yo)

These niggas know they can't fuck with us, so they been tryna join a team

This shit like snowfall, starrin' Butch', me, Hyde and Heem

Durin' roll call, I had your bitch behind the scenes

And the whole time, was gettin' rich behind the scenes

To you, this large money, to me, that's small things

To them, it's a house payment, to me, that's just a ring

Shit, flooded the Cartier 'cause I felt like I needed bling (bling)

Youngin deserve a Grammy from lettin' this chopper sing (uh-huh)

Shorty like Maxwell, he passin' pretty wings (yeah)

Dumpin' off max shells and handin' out chicken wings

Double R or the Lamb'? Fuck it, don't matter to me

And that bitch don't sing but she look like SZA to me

She might be your best friend, but she ain't no sister of me

Why y'all out there, contractors? That bum ain't richer than me

I be in a mansion with a gun that's bigger than me

But when I pop out, niggas don't want no issues with me

And that's my word, my word, my word, my word (they know)

My word

I've been on a dirty mission, dear God, I seek forgiveness

I came to kill the game for the throne, you be my witness

I had a wish list for some bricks and all the riches (uh-huh)

It's Black Soprano Mob, not a gang, we be the biggest (biggest)

I wore to whip it, baseheads, he need to fix it (he need that shit)

Beamin' up the scott', now he stuck, his jaw twitchin'

We raw pigeon, grab the pots, we in the kitchen

They know I trailblaze for the team, like Rob Strickland (nigga)

I'm God-gifted, hit his chest, his soul lifted (ooh)

Them BSF diamonds VS', we gold trimmin'

I told niggas (I told y'all niggas)

turned it up and showed niggas

Ask them old heads, "Who be on the East a cold nigga?"

I'm '0 Jigga (uh-huh), spendin' cheese, a big pimper

Then niggas looked up, seen Heem, the big dipper

The quarter-bricker (yeah), half man and thirty-six'er

Made the oil lock from the soda, we gram shiftin' (get that shit, nigga)

Fork clickin' (yeah), water runnin', we shock-stiff it (woo)

And I just got the key to the street, I'm locksmithin'

This Glock clickin' (brrt), .33, like Scott' Pippen

I got some niggas do it for free, but still tip 'em (where you go though?)

I still risk it, price right, I still flip it (all that, nigga)

The county gettin' head in the office, like Bill Clinton, nigga

They know, they know

BSF, motherfucker

Eastside Buffalo, gone