Текст пісні
I like when everythings colorful you gotta coordinate
You might miss it you put in your order late
Count Basie Cab Calloway how I orchestrate
Them Niggas claim king but the gods didn't coronate
Post at the port of grace wit cereal milk in my face
Watching the shipments come in materials laid at the gate
We like Frodo and Samwise
We come thru they be like these damn guys and measure our hand size
No matter what it is we can hold it we soul controlling
These cowards folding they on the phone wit the capacola
All the crips in my neighborhood took the same photo
Them jail poses was practice but I would never go tho
That shit would bother me in the rec room or lobby G
Couldn't even party its probably cuz of a robbery
God bless the child that can hold his own
Without ever holding chrome
Cuz some shooters got bulletproof chromosomes
Fuck what's appropriate
You cant get the smoke we get
We building more guns then the soviets
I don't fuck with no opiates
So high my eyes looking like I'm from orient
The story ends when I say so
I'm always after pesos I break hoes homies case closed
U better stay woke slip and get your face broke
I feel like a god I should prolly put a cape on
Bitch I'm napalm every sixteen got eight bombs
To box me you'd need like eight arms
I'm a good Ass neighbor just like State Farm
Cookies and cake for em
Prolly have a great morning
You don't want war wit em
Samurai swords I'm recording em
Mic chords stored for some torturings
The forty blowout a portion of your organ skin
And leave an orifice that you could fit an orphan in