Porches
The tip top of the, hip hopera, be the rich mafia clicks
Fake as tilapia, gobbling up dick
Bitch coppers wish they shot us w clips, but couldn't stop us
At a red light, with a stop sign, standing in front my whip
Got a problem, got a revolver to solve them, real quick
Kicking ass like, combat boots, with steel tips
Knock you out like, Chris Rock got, by Will Smith
Real shit, fuck around and that metal will spit
This straight from the ghetto, every since little kids
With the bibs, now we serve bids, trying to get dibs
On some pork ribs, but they just give us the short stick
So we force dick, down they throats, for that horse shit
Where the fortunes, bigger portions, big cribs and Porsches
We was broke, when we smoked on them porches
Poor kids never get a break, til they get cake
And that don't last long, still we take our hat off, when we pray
Heems
We went from jumping off the porches to passing torches in some Porsches
You horse shit, your bars got me snoring
Ya boring, peep my lore kid
Yo I'm somewhere out in Bora Bora touring
I'm in the ICU with grips on my socks
Ducking the cops, with a grip in my sock
Blade in my pocket at the stop and shop
Western beef, see the opps and I drop and pop
I'm at the ER they thought I was an MD
Yo they think they friendly with me
I'll empty three on any mp3
If you wasn't with me in the MPV, then let me be
Veena logo on the invoice heading
High thread count on my bedding
Yo I'm an urban legend, an Hermes turban legend
Prada loafers at my cousins wedding
Quelle Chris
Imma need every single one of y'all bum ass rappers to shut the fuck up
You get picked up by the bus because you broke
I got Debo strength muhfucka I pick the bus up
Kids need naps they acting fussy and flustered
Curl em up like warm water and pink lusters
Bank cards busted they double as pill crushers
Have you feeling gooey inside like fruit gushers
Niggas love to hate when obviously they love ya
Ducking face when they see you like lips puckered
Why the hate? When it's hard like webbie trying to say Charlemagne
We roll with a bunch of bears like charmin paper
Every dollar in the bank only makes me greater
If it was only bout the love I'd be a millionaire
I got it covered head to toe like Sicilian hair
Heems done cleaned up and I'm trying to pull a double dare
