Praise the Lord, everybody
Uh
Conductor
Bring it back home
Uh
Uh-uh-uh
The price might change
The stamp might change
These bitches might change
The lights on the Rolls might change
The plug might change
The numbers on the scale might change
You sucker niggas might change
But I won't change, I'm not changing
I can't change, I'm not changing
Cocaine meltdown, this start changing
The dope might change, but fuck it
What's the word?
You went through all that just tryin' to get a bird?
You built all this talking how we cook and serve?
I reinvented the wheel, bitch, the nerve
I reinvented the wheel, bitch, the nerve of this nigga
Bentley coupe scrape the curb on you niggas
It's not like they never seen this shit before
It's not like I never seen a brick before, I'm still excited
I gave fire to niggas that seen fire before
They still admire my shit like
"Yo, Stove, this shit is fire!"
I ran the clock down to the wire
State to state, I rode them tires to the wire
So much money, these suckers started wearing wires
In the kitchen, she like: "How long you gon' be?"
Bitch, a while
Change
The seasons may come and go, but I won't
Change
The fruit from my tree remains, it's not gon'
Change
You may see me grow from the seed, but I can't
Change
Through all the trials and tribulations, I won't
Change
I won't change, no, no
No, I won't change
Ayo
Why Dump had to leave so soon?
Free Sly till they free him (Free Sly!)
My nigga on his 30th June
Big L just left me, the only pops I ever had
Michelle died from a broken heart
You don't know the half
Me and ChineGun
Wet the same bed, took the same bath
In the kitchen, baggin' up, same gloves, same mask
It seems like yesterday
Yola on the resume
Fiend dropped off one sniff
Don't underestimate
Still seein' bacon in my visions
Prison gave me patience and wisdom
Pain on my Maison slippers
Praise Allah 'cause I'm breathin' (woop!)
Super Flygod, I'm in leather every season (Super Flygod!)
Super Flygod, I fuck two bitches every weekend
Last load didn't cook the best, but it's decent
Bathrobe, Chanel slip-ons in St. Regis
Headshots (headshots!)
He took his last breath and seen Jesus
Out in Paris, back-to-back bags in front of Caesars (skrrt!)
The party's over
Every stat we on Michelle timing
Every time you step out, you hearin' shells flying
To try to shit on my name, y'all niggas failed trying
I'm on my thirteenth foreign with the [?] driving
Niggas is sick, I'm still going up
Rest in peace, Brick, we rich
I'm still blowin' up
Hands on [?], I'm still showing up
Cobra clutch, even my clone wore Dior for months
A million dollars worth of jewelry in the back alley, no security
You know what I'm sayin'?
