All I need is God, couple mil' and a porterhouse
All these niggas' paper soldiers cardboard, cut 'em out
I remember when I ain't had shit
Mama said don't touch nothing, now I'm on some grab shit
Murder everything on some stab shit
Bystanders, getting [?]
Motherfucking highlander
Been a while, since I let these niggas ramble
All I hear is Mt. Olympus banging out the band door
You ain't said shit 'til you said it to me
You payin' for the pussy shawty said it was free
Now I ain't got time for the fake ones
All I talk about cake motherfucker go and bake one
We was on some shit back in nine-nine
You was suckin' on ya' mama's titties hollering [?] mine
Bottom line, I was on the grind all around town
Country bumpkin southern motherfucker in surround sound
I flexed and I paid dues
Kicked a couple doors that they said I couldn't break through
I remember starving on the real, nigga
Now I got steak on the grill, nigga
Saute shrimp, lemon peel let it chill, nigga
Now you can't eat cause it's keep what you kill, nigga
Rolling down the strip like I never made it
Peepin' all the broke motherfuckers keep me motivated
Pop that ass for a player, don't be scared of the dick
Find a drink and some gators for a pimp
I ain't playin' with these hoes
Bad bitches super fly, super [?] with these hoes like a pimp
Writer(s): Glen Ballard, Alan Anthony Silvestri
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