2.50 2.50 2.50 2.50 2.50 2.50 2.50 2.50 2.50 .250 .250 .250 (2025)

Old road she keeps callin' to me,Old road she keeps callin' to me,Travel on down,Travel on down,Travel on down and see.(Harmonica)13 and 3-0-1,13 and 3-0-1,250 West,250 West,250 West to 9.(Harmonica)Lonely, so cold and blue,Lonely, so cold and blue,Tired and hungery,Tired and hungery,Tired and hungery too.

Yeah, criticalYeah, criticalYeah, criticalYeah, criticalStreets criticalStreets criticalBumpin' this bud like MistercapBought me two bricks call me 60 thouPay for the coke nigga and a smilePaid for the case nigga beat the trialBought a Rolex nigga and a dialGang of bad bitches yeah and they foulGang of young niggas yeah and they wildThat pearly whitesAll my niggas gettin' head tonightAll my niggas gettin' bread tonightSittin' back make sure the bread is rightTwo-door cost 250 thouAin't no scales its digitalCookin' them chickens like Mr.

Lowkey, tryna be seen my niggaRun through the check, that's the protocolThirty four walls, threw 'em a promoter dogThat quarter blockAll about getting that quarter blockStarted with the rocks in a slabThen I moved up on the AveHit them up with that quarter blockYeaaaahhhh, that quarter blockAll about getting that quarter blockTwo fifty thousand straight, nine piece straight dropYeah, I'm 'bout to hit these niggas with a quarter blockSaid I'm sitting hereStaring at the bottom of this VisionwareAnd I swear I can see my dreamsAs the water boil, see a little clearerEyes red, nigga might need some VisineGame got a nigga head throbbing, nigga might need some AdvilFeds picked up my nigga and his baby mamaLast night shit was mad realScared to go to churchThrow him an iced out cross, then I hit the clubThrew both hands over both my eyes in the court room so I can't see the judgeI made miracles with that soda babeDecibels with that yola babeCash Money in my projects, since a JuvenileLike the Nolia babyThat quarter blockAll about getting that quarter blockStarted with the rocks in a slabThen I moved up on the AveHit them up with that quarter blockYeaaaahhhh, that quarter blockAll about getting that quarter block250 straight, 9 piece straight dropYeah, I'm 'bout to hit these niggas with a quarter blockLet's go

Chorus :Flex, sex, drugs an money,cars, clothes & plenty of women , i got all ah that x2Verse :yo tell the truth young juice the truth , frenchie , wooh an Flocka tooSo if ya wanna test my crew STEP now by yo self boy You gone need HELP Desert eagle under my BELT Mac 90 double clip or Flareso icey all about our WEALTH Gucci mane i sign myself yo swag is kinda stale Sick flow i need ah ginger ALE undercover i think youAre TWELVE long way Gucci cool as HELL before i had Ah job i had ah SCALEChorus X2Verse 2 :Im so icey my time piece is like WOWBling blow burr gucci mane Ooh child million worth of jewerly on (bite down) I'm so turnt up drama boy turn me down i think i seeThe clouds fareal I'm on ah jet now phantom 26's Junkiesplease wipe it down backseat of the phantom Me an wockahave ah pound flyer than ah eagle no I'm Higher thanah owl birthday bash i might jump off in The crowdGucci crew wild would yal please cut it down calm downbaby thats why i style girls go wild only to bust downChorus X2Verse 3 :Brick squad 1017 i here, walk off in club and da fine women cheer Diamonds in ma ear yeah they crystal clear,money out the rear engine in the rearI wish my dick could see me here put it down like she was here 15 diamond chains on, got your girlfriend sayin BURR7 busters on the grind got your girl like where your balls$250,000 homegirl thats my truck 60 bricks yeah thatsMy plug East Atlanta where I'm from, college degree .....

You never knowMillion dollar meetings in a Polo LoungeMe and my man Oliver North, that's how I roll aroundShawty wanna tell me secrets 'bout a rap niggaI tell that bitch it's more attractive when you hold it downKobe 'bout to lose a hundred fifty MsKobe my nigga, I hate it had to be himBitch, you wasn't with me shootin' in the gym(Huh!

Trailers for sale or rent, rooms to let, fifty centsNo phone, no pool, no pets, I ain't got no cigarettesAh, but, two hours of pushin' broomBuys an eight by twelve four-bit roomI'm a man of means by no means, king of the roadThird boxcar, midnight train, destination Bangor, MaineOld worn-out suits and shoesI don't pay no union duesI smoke old stogies I have found, short, but not too big aroundI'm a man of means by no means, king of the roadI know every engineer on every trainAll their children, and all of their namesAnd every hand out in every townAnd every lock that ain't locked when no one's aroundI sing, trailers for sale or rent, rooms to let, fifty centsNo phone, no pool, no pets, I ain't got no cigarettesAh, but, two hours of pushin' broomBuys an eight by twelve four-bit roomI'm a man of means by no means, king of the roadTrailers for sale or rent, rooms to let, fifty centsNo phone, no pool, no pets, I ain't got no cigarettesAh, but, two hours of pushin' broomBuys an eight by twelve four-bit room

Trailer for sale or rent, rooms to let, fifty centsNo phone, no pool, no pets, I ain't got no cigarettesAh, but, two hours of pushin' broomBuys an eight by twelve four-bit roomI'm a man of means by no means, king of the roadThird boxcar, midnight train, destination, Bangor, MaineOld worn-out suits and shoesI don't pay no union duesI smoke old stogies I have found - short, but not too big aroundI'm a man of means by no means, king of the roadI know every engineer on every trainAll of their children, and all of their namesAnd every handout in every townAnd every lock that ain't locked when no one's aroundI sing, trailers for sale or rent, rooms to let, fifty centsNo phone, no pool, no pets, I ain't got no cigarettesAh, but, two hours of pushin' broomBuys an eight by twelve four-bit roomI'm a man of means by no means, king of the roadTrailers for sale or rent, rooms to let, fifty centsNo phone, no pool, no pets, I ain't got no cigarettesAh, but, two hours of pushin' broomBuys an eight by twelve four-bit room

Went to New York to cut my first LP Ridin down Broadway in a taxiHang a right at 25thJust a little too swift, jo'Let me out, I'm gonna walk from here onHere's 4 bucks you drive like a moronLost in The Apple and I'm all alone'Cause New Yorks Not My HomeIn the village chillin' with a 40 in a brown bagI'm seein' freaks, and also fagsI see a set of nice legs in my siteBut its a fuckin' transvestiteWalkin' in the daylightNow I'm trippin' and I'm like blownBut I take another sip and say to each his ownHe'de get dissed in Detroit, but I'll leave him alone'Cause New Yorks Not My HomeNow if your sounds are knockin' to the cool Kid Rockin'Has got your girl jockin'Take a chill pill young man, close your flap'Cause like the Piston Joe, I'm goin back to backWith a track, uh, that's just too cleanI got my pistol packed and a fifth of Jim BeamOnly 19, and my name ain't WilburBut I pull more hoes then Long Jon SilverI don't dress up, or try to look prettyInstead I rock the house in every major cityFrom the tip of Maine to the coast of Cali'I get down and I yodel in the valleyCan't say I'm from the Bronx or Brookland zones'Cause New Yorks Not My HomeAte ave in the 40 deuce, its like a freak showA lot of hookers try to pop that week, soI walk with a limp when I pimp throughOr co-mack those hoes if I'm illin' with the Beast CrewIt's pickin' up, ill check this factThese Mother Fuckers pay over 2.50 for a big macConjested, overcrowded, see ya I'm gone'Cause New Yorks Not My Home

Trailer for sale or rentRooms to let, fifty cents.No phone, no pool, no petsI ain't got no cigarettesAh, but, two hours of pushin' broomBuys an eight by twelve four-bit roomI'm a man of means by no meansKing of the roadThird boxcar, midnight trainDestination, Bangor, Maine.

Music drug-dealing cousin, ain't nothing fuckin' with weMe turn that 62 to 125, 125 to a 250250 to a half a million, ain't nothin' nobody can do with me, now who with me?¡Vámonos! Call me Hov or JefeTranslation, I'm the shit, least that what my neck sayLeast that what my check say, lost my homie for a decadeNigga down for like 12 years, ain't hug his son since second gradeHe never told, who we gon' tell, we top of the totem poleIt's the Dream Team meets the Supreme TeamAnd all our eyes green it only means one thingYou ain't fucking with my clique (Ain't nobody fucking with my clique, clique, clique, clique, clique)Ain't nobody fresher than my mothafuckin' clique, clique, clique, clique, cliqueAs I look around, they don't do it like my clique, clique, clique, clique, cliqueAnd all these bad bitches, man, they want theThey want the, they want theBreak records at Louie, ate breakfast at GucciMy girl a superstar all from a home movieBow on our arrival, the Un-American idolsWhat niggas did in Paris, got 'em hanging off the EiffelYeah I'm talking business, we talking CIAI'm talking George Tenet, I seen him the other dayHe asked me about my Maybach, think he had the sameExcept mine tinted and his might have been rentedYou know white people get money, don't spend itOr maybe they get money, buy a businessI rather buy 80 gold chains and go ig'nantI know Spike Lee gon' kill me but let me finishBlame it on the pigment, we living no limitsThem gold Master P ceilings was just a figmentOf our imagination, MTV cribs Now I'm looking at a crib right next to where TC livesThat's Tom Cruise, whatever she accuseHe wasn't really drunk he just had a few brewsPass the refreshments, a cool, cool beverageEverything I do need a news crew's presenceSpeedboat swerve homie watch out for the wavesI'm way too black to burn from sun raysSo I just meditate at the home in PompeiiAbout how I could build a new Rome in one dayEvery time I'm in Vegas they screaming like he's ElvisBut I just wanna design hotels and nail itShit is real got me feeling IsraelianLike Bar Refaeli, Gisele, nah that's BrazilianWent through, deep depression when my momma passedSuicide, what kinda talk is that?

You light like a feather, heavy like brickI'm a rock star, got slits on my wristYou ain't never hear heavy metal like thisYou ain't ever seen a rollie full of that pissYou light like a feather, heavy like brickI'm a rock star, got slits on my wristYou ain't never hear heavy metal like thisGot two yellow bitches come chill in my cribShe keep talking 'bout lime green, noLil' bitch this is slime green, yeahLil' slime Vert bitch, bendin' overYeah, I got shoot 250 (yeah)She keep talking 'bout lime green, noLil' bitch this is slime green, yeahLil' slime Vert bitch, bendin' over (yeah)Yeah, I got shoot 250 (yeah)I woke up richer than yesterdayI had to go get a check todayAll by myself, no masturbateCome baby, come by, come take awayThat boy, he was talking yesterdayHe probably get laid to rest todayI can put that shit together in a faster wayWhat you want me to go and kill you straightTold that bitch listen, no no you can't kiss meI hit that thing once and drip for the finishTold that bitch turn around and lick on this dickyI got these girls and they fightin' all up like and they screamin'And they like, "pick me", like "pick me""Pick me", like "pick me", like "pick me", like "pick me"Bitch I'm a demon, I ride in a demonSped through your block, lil bitch this not a hemiYou light like a feather, heavy like brickI'm a rock star, got slits on my wristYou ain't never hear heavy any metal like thisYou ain't never seen a rollie full of that pissTwo yellow chains and it look like ChrisGot two yellow bitches chill in my cribUh, make the bitch ride dick 10 speed, yeahWhich one of you hoes with me, uhDrop by at 350, yeahShe keep talking 'bout lime green (oh)Lil' bitch this is slime green (yeah)Lil' slime Ferg bitch, bendin' overYeah, I got shoot 250 youngNo hunnid rounds shoot 250, yeahTwo minutes, I made 250, yeahLil' Uzi I'm straight from the 16, yeahOn my neck spent 250, yeahYou light like a feather, heavy like brickI'm a rock star, got slits on my wristYou ain't never hear heavy any metal like thisYou ain't ever seen a rollie full of that pissYou light like a feather, heavy like brickI'm a rock star, got slits on my wristYou ain't never hear heavy any metal like thisGot two yellow bitches come chill in my cribTalk to 'em!

Baguetty come from Heaven, I'm so petty (baguetty)We ain't buyin' the cap that you keep sellin' (keep sellin')I done spent 250 just on bailin' (250)This some pressure cookie that I keep inhalin' (pressure)Let's goRick Joseph, that's a million dollar lawyer (Sick Rick)Dolce and Gabbana drip, I put it on my daughter (drip)Two thousand for a purse, she only two, I let her spoil her (two)Coulda spent it on a hoe, oh no, they aren't loyalI left like 3700 on the dresser, told her, "Keep it" (keep that)Your bitch be on my dick, applyin' pressure, it's a secret (shh)Rest in peace to Michael Jackson, had to smash to let me beatBitch, I'm a smooth criminal, I got away, you didn't see meI'm DaBaby, but your baby daddy really wanna be me (ah)Tryna bite the move, he always watch me on your TVYour bitch is like a pool, know I be divin' in to swim (shh)Million dollar nigga in the condo, like I'm Nino (Nino)Word is like the ocean, I'ma hit like the casinoI'm fishin', fishin', to find a bitch like NemoExtension, I mention, knock the steak out your burrito (woo)Not the cape, but Superman, who gon' try to be the hero?

Don't be afraid of meI'm what you needI saw you on the screensI know we're meant to beYou're starrin' in my dreamsIn magazinesYou're lookin' right at me (you're lookin' right at me)I'm here around the clockI'm waitin' on your block (I'm waitin' on your block)But please, don't call the copsThey'll make me stopAnd I just wanna talk (I just wanna talk)Bet I could change your lifeYou could be my wifeCould get into a fightI'll say, "You're right"And you'll kiss me goodnightI waited on the corner 'til I saw the sitter leaveWas easy getting over and I landed on my feetI came in through the kitchen lookin' for something to eatI left a calling card so they would know that it was meI tried to save you but I failedTwo fifty thousand dollar bail (two hundred fifty thousand dollars)While I'm away, don't read my mail (don't read my mail)Just bring a veil (just bring a veil)And come visit me in jail (visit me in jail)I'll go back to the dinerI'll write another letter (I'll write another letter)I hope you'll read it this timeYou betterThe cops around the corner stopped me when I tried to leaveThey told me I was crazy and they knocked me off my feet (they told me I was crazy)They came in through the kitchen lookin' for something discreteI left a calling card so they would know that it was me(Know that it was me, know that it was me)I memorized your number, now I call you when I pleaseI tried to end it all, but now I'm back up on my feetI saw you in the car with someone else and couldn't sleepIf somethin' happens to him, you can bet that it was me3956310-807-3956310-807-3956

Sixty-six was still a narrow two-lane highwayHarry Truman was the man who ran the showThe bad Korean war was just beginningAnd I was just three years too young to goCountry Music hadn't gone to New York City yetAnd a service man was proud of what he'd doneHank and Lefty crowded ev'ry jukeboxThat's the way it was in fifty one.

Trailers for sale or rent, rooms to let, fifty centsNo phone, no pool, no pets, I ain't got no cigarettesAh, but, two hours of pushin' broomBuys an eight by twelve four-bit roomI'm a man of means by no means, king of the roadThird boxcar, midnight train, destination Bangor, MaineOld worn-out suits and shoesI don't pay no union duesI smoke old stogies I have found, short, but not too big aroundI'm a man of means by no means, king of the roadI know every engineer on every trainAll their children, and all of their namesAnd every hand out in every townAnd every lock that ain't locked when no one's aroundI sing, trailers for sale or rent, rooms to let, fifty centsNo phone, no pool, no pets, I ain't got no cigarettesAh, but, two hours of pushin' broomBuys an eight by twelve four-bit roomI'm a man of means by no means, king of the roadTrailers for sale or rent, rooms to let, fifty centsNo phone, no pool, no pets, I ain't got no cigarettesAh, but, two hours of pushin' broomBuys an eight by twelve four-bit room

He's just a drunkThat's all they can sayBorn with a bottle in his hand anywayWell, you can't always believe everything you see'Cause he ain't as drunk as he could beIf you're asking me, he's doing just fineConsidering his only son just damn diedAnd I don't know how I'd do it if that was meBut he ain't as drunk as he could beHe could be taking his liquor with a handful of pillsGetting involved with some no-good drug dealsAnd wrap his 2-50 right around a treeHe ain't as drunk as he could beShe's let him down for the fifteenth damn timeHer and other men weigh heavy on his mindBut he don't have the will to just set her freeHe ain't as drunk as he could beHe could be taking his liquor with a handful of pillsGetting involved with some no-good drug dealsAnd wrap his 2-50 right around a treeHe ain't as drunk as he could beHe takes the pain different than the restWell, he can't find the words to talk it right off his chestAnd he don't give a damn, they say he's losing his mindHe just lives life one drink at a timeMaybe one day, they'll have to seeHe ain't as drunk as he could beHe could be taking his liquor with a handful of pillsGetting involved with some no-good drug dealsAnd wrap his 2-50 right around a treeHe ain't as drunk as he could be, he could be

Trailers for sale or rent Rooms to let, fifty cents No phone, no pool, no pets I ain't got no cigarettes Ah, but, two hours of pushin' broom Buys a eight by twelve four-bit room I'm a man of means by no means King of the road Third boxcar, midnight train Destination, Bangor, Maine Old worn out suit and shoes I don't pay no union dues I smoke old stogies I have found Short, but not too big around I'm a man of means by no means King of the road I know every engineer on every train All of their children and all of their names Every handout in every town And every lock that ain't locked When no one's aroundI singTrailers for sale or rent Rooms to let, fifty cents No phone, no pool, no pets I ain't got no cigarettes Ah, but, two hours of pushin' broom Buys a eight by twelve four-bit room I'm a man of means by no means King of the roadI know every engineer on every train All of their children and all of their names Every handout in every town And every lock that ain't locked When no one's aroundI singTrailers for sale or rent Rooms to let, fifty cents No phone, no pool, no pets I ain't got no cigarettes Ah, but, two hours of pushin' broom Buys a eight by twelve four-bit room I'm a man of means by no means King of the road Trailers for sale or rent Rooms to let, fifty cents No phone, no pool, no pets I ain't got no cigarettes Two hours of pushin' broom Buys a eight by twelve four-bit room I'm a man of means by no means King of the roadKing of the roadKing of the road

We gon' put it in reverseDarling I told you many timesAnd I am telling you once againJust to remind you sweetheart that my—Oh Lamar, Hail Mary and marijuana, times is hardPray with the hooligans, shadows all in the darkFellowship with demons and relatives, I'm a starLife is one funny mothafuckaA true comedian, you gotta love him, you gotta trust himI might be buggin', infomercials and no sleepIntroverted by my thoughtsChildren listen, it gets deepSee once upon a time inside the Nickerson Garden projectsThe object was to process and digest poverty's dialectAdaptation inevitable, gun violence, crack spotFederal policies raid buildings and drug professionalsAnthony was the oldest of sevenWell respected, calm and collectedLaughin' and joking made life easierHard times, momma on crackA four-year-old telling his nanny he needed herHis family history pimpin' and bangin'He was meant to be dangerousClocked him a grip and start slangin'Fifteen scrapin' up his jeans with quarter piecesEven got some head from a smoker last weekendDodged a policeman workin' for his big homieSmall time hustler, graduated to a brick on himTen thousand dollars out of a project housingThat's on the daily, seen his first mil twenty years oldHad a couple of babies, had a couple of shootersCaught a murder case, fingerprints on the gunThey assumin', but witnesses couldn't prove itThat was back when he turned his backAnd they killed his cousinHe beat the case and went back to hustlin'Bird shufflin', Anthony rangThe first in the projects with the two-tone MustangThat 5.0 thing, they say 5-0 cameCirclin' parkin' lots and parking spotsAnd hoppin' out while harrasing the corner blocksCrooked cops told Anthony he should kick itHe brushed them off and walked backTo the Kentucky Fried ChickenSee at this chicken spotThere was a light-skinned nigga that talked a lotWith a curly top and a gap in his teethHe worked the window, his name was DuckyHe came from the streets the Robert Taylor HomesSouthside Projects, Chiraq, the Terror DomeDrove to California with a woman on him and 500 dollarsThey had a son hoping that he'd see collegeHustlin' on the side with a nine to five to freak itCadillac Seville, he'd ride his son around on weekendsThree-piece special with his name on the shirt pocket'Cross the street from the projectsAnthony planned to rob itStuck up the place before back in '84That's when affiliation was really eight gears of warSo many relatives telling us, selling us devilish worksKilling us crime, intelligent, feloniousPrevalent proposition with ninesDucky was well aware, they robbed the managerAnd shot a customer last yearHe figured he'd get on these niggas good sidesFree chicken every time Anthony posted in lineTwo extra biscuits, Anthony liked him and then let him slideThey didn't kill him, in fact it look likeThey're the last to survivePay attention, that one decision changed both of they livesOne curse at a time, reverse the manifestAnd good karma and I'll tell you whyYou take two strangersAnd put 'em in random predicamentsGive 'em a soul so they canMake their own choices and live with itTwenty years later them same strangersYou make 'em meet againInside recording studios where they reaping their benefitsThen you start reminding them 'bout that chicken incidentWhoever thought the greatest rapperWould be from coincidenceBecause if Anthony killed DuckyTop Dawg could be servin' lifeWhile I grew up without a father and die in a gunfightSo I was taking a walk the other day

I had a hand me down ride painted rattle can redSecond hand tires with poor boy treadMade a lot of almost love in the bed of thatTruck that got stuck a lotJust letter jacket boys singing Jerry Jeff songsDrinking everything we could get our hands onLearning 'bout right by doin' it wrongHopin' we didn't get caughtAnd we spent what little bit of money we hadOn wintergreen Skoal and main street gasGo get your girl, go make a dragIf your lucky you can take her cross the rail road tracksWhere the man in the moon works his magicOn the second runner up of the 4H pageantSeems like yesterday even thoughThat was fourteen hundred and fifty two beers ago, ohSkipped that town on my birthdayFor eighteen years I was headed that wayWhere old red stopped I just stayedIn a room without a viewI met a one look girl in a two bit barI had a place, she had a carI won her heart with my guitarI sang her the homesick blues, 'boutSpendin' what little bit of money we hadOn wintergreen Skoal and main street gasGo get your girl, go make a dragIf your lucky you can take her cross the rail road tracksWhere the man in the moon works his magicOn the second runner up of the 4H pageantSeemed like yesterday even thoughThat was fifteen hundred and sixty two beers agoYeah, spendin' what little bit of money we hadOn wintergreen Skoal and main street gasGo get your girl and go make a dragIf your lucky you can take her cross the rail road tracksWhere the man in the moon works his magicOn the second runner up of the 4H pageantSeemed like yesterday even thoughThat was sixteen hundred and fifty two beersWhole lot of highway, a whole lot of yearsSixteen hundred and fifty three beers ago, oh oh

[Chorus]Nashville cats, play clean as country waterNashville cats, play wild as mountain dewNashville cats, been playin' since they's babiesNashville cats, get work before they're twoWell, there's thirteen hundred and fifty twoGuitar pickers in NashvilleAnd they can pick more notes than the number of antsOn a Tennessee ant hillYeah, there's thirteen hundred and fifty twoGuitar cases in NashvilleAnd any one that unpacks 'is guitar could playTwice as better than I willYeah, I was just thirteen, you might say I was aMusical proverbial knee-highWhen I heard a couple new-sounding tunes on the tubesAnd they blasted me sky-highAnd the record man said every one is a yellow sunRecord from NashvilleAnd up north there ain't nobody buys themAnd I said, "But I Will"And it was[Chorus]Well, there's sixteen thousand eight hundred 'n' twenty oneMothers from NashvilleAll their friends play music, and they ain't uptightIf one of the kids willBecause it's custom made for any mothers sonTo be a guitar picker in NashvilleAnd I sure am glad I got a chance to say a word aboutThe music and the mothers from Nashville[Chorus]Kick it

Word, to my bank rollReal niggas, ain't soldDropping my single in two weeksThe PinkPrint album a movieBitches be thinkin' they hotBut these bitches be using that term, so looselyYasss, bish, yasssYasss, bish, yasssYasss, bish, yasssYasss, bish, yasssYasss, bish, yasssYasss, bish, yasssYasss, bish, yasssYasss, bish, yasssTell 'em give a bad bitch her proper dueYasss, bish, yasssWhat they say ain't never what they gon' doYasss, bish, yasssIt say 250, on that fucking stickerYasss, bish, yasssPinkprint hot, it should be in some slippersYasss, bish, yasss

Number fifty-four,The house with the bamboo door,Bamboo roof and bamboo walls,They've even got a bamboo floor!

I am the roughest, toughestBloodclot JamaicanTop speed now gas a get pressIf you don't get a next time do yo next best250 the dash board a suggestWi a fuck up the high way go a West BestTell yo friend don't fuck around hereCaw the black eagle a nuh chicken a best dressBaby come here meck mi touch yo left breastPut yo foot pon the desk, lets love in excessYo waan si wi homelessMi nuh cater fi badmind unuh hopelessIn a the S Class, the fool dem a protestNever know enviousness was a processHold mi the closest, baby mi hand under yo pretty gold dressCome pon yo face call it a protexCome pon yo face call it a protexFast life, fast driveFast lane, fast lifeFast everything, fast carFast doe, fast nightSo I fast everythingSpeed of light, speed of lifeFast everything, fast everythingDem a seh the World BossMeck gyal wine up like a car glassTwo fluffy gyal hold mi tight cyaa passWaan mi fi teach a, teach a her classGyal ride pon the bike the feature her fastLight up a spliff the breefer or grassWhite rum in a di bar mi need a half flassPretty brown girl shi really half cyassThe Chenell Champagne, Luis Vuitton GlassShi really find a hard taskJamaica flag nuh fly, nuh half maskFuck from 5 mi reach a half passGyal come wet up mi dark glassNuh shoot fi miss the dawg marksMi nuh cost injuries, the Gaza cost corpsMi run the race before the car startCause any white line wi run theFast life, fast driveFast lane, fast lifeFast everything, fast carFast doe, fast nightSo I fast everythingSpeed of light, speed of lifeFast everything, fast everythingTop speed now gas a get pressIf you don't get a next time do yo next best250 the dash board a suggestWi a fuck up the high way go a West BestTell yo friend don't fuck around hereCaw the black eagle a nuh chicken a best dressBaby come here meck mi touch yo left breastPut yo foot pon the desk, lets love in excessYo waan si wi homelessMi nuh cater fi badmind unuh hopelessIn a the S Class, the fool dem a protestNever know enviousness was a processHold mi the closest, baby mi hand under yo pretty gold dressCome pon yo face call it a protexCome pon yo face call it a protexFast life, fast driveFast lane, fast lifeFast everything, fast carFast doe, fast nightSo I fast everythingSpeed of light, speed of lifeFast everything, fast everythingFast life, fast driveFast lane, fast lifeFast everything, fast carFast doe, fast nightSo I fast everythingSpeed of light, speed of lifeFast everything, fast everything

(Kyuh)Yasss bish, yasss, yasss bish, yasssYasss bish, yasss, yasss bish, yasssYasss bish, yasss, yasss bish, yasssYasss bish, yasss, yasss bish, yasssTell 'em give a bad bitch her proper due(Yasss bish, yasss)What they say ain't never what they gon' do(Yasss bish, yasss)It say 250 on that fuckin' sticker(Yasss bish, yasss)Pinkprint hot, it should be in some slippers(Yasss bish, yasss) niggas know me, yeahI don't fuck with you niggasI own the ClippersI own some homes, I own my own liquorBitches is bitter, my titties is biggerYou bitches my sons, I need a babysitterI am the dream, on theDream Team, I am Olajuwon, i am Hakeem'Dul Jabbar, I am KareemI am the Queen because I'm a machineYou not ready, you not seasonedGo against me, I say, "Fix it Jesus"Thinking they hot, talk shit a lotBut when they shit drop, I say"Fix it Jesus" oh, your shit ain't goldWord to my bankroll real niggas ain't soldDropping my single in two weeksThe Pinkprint album a movieBitches be thinkin' they hotBut these bitches be usingThat term so loosely (Kyuh)Yasss bish, yasss, yasss bish, yasssYasss bish, yasss, yasss bish, yasssYasss bish, yasss, yasss bish, yasssYasss bish, yasss, yasss bish, yasssTell 'em give a bad bitch her proper due(Yasss bish, yasss)What they say ain't never what they gon' do(Yasss bish, yasss)It say 250 on that fuckin' sticker(Yasss bish, yasss)Pinkprint hot, it should be in some slippers(Yasss bish, yasss) niggas know me, yeah