Steady riding low, eyes steady swole Feel like death row, 1994 $Uicide tears, dripping off our mothers Bullets in the chamber of the pistol in the cupboard Got a couple black tees with that indo sparkin' Bitch, don't even look my way, 'cause I fucking hate talkin' Got them spinners on a hearse, bitches for dessert Pour me up a four, I'm sipping codeine till the dirt Ridin' 'round Texas in a Lexus with a Florida license plate Outta state, eating grapes, blowin' dank, no yank, bitch Dry as fucking weed $Lick, havin' a panic attack with the Mac on his lap And now he makin' beats Smurf in the back tryna get some sleep Gas tank on E, not a stain on me, sunset, cool breeze Looking at the Moon and then I turn into a goon I'm doing what I please, throwin' up some fuckin threes Shlide in deep while I’m tipped Tryna run cash up Steady fiending more income like Damn bro, what I gotta do to get out of these problems I’m facing? Light a smooth J in my right hand Got bitches just like U2 Get the cash man I didn’t always have for the cabman Ain’t no tellin' what a nigga do to you Shake your hand, or just shoot through you I’m the man that you show respect When seen cruisin' through Either that or get that ass fanned up Matter fact, I rather run bands up Meet the pocket chopper, mini rocket-launcher Stay out the way or get bagged up, nigga