Lyrics:
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In the strip club with them racks
Ho know that I got that sack
Elegant thuggin'
Honey take in that Louis luggage
I'm big pimpin' like Pimp C
back my soul, stole by one of these foes like Mack Moes
Puttin holes in my old clothes, even stole my pose
Got my sky, fly, who that guy?
Slip 'em my
Baby bury me in Gucci
With a Louis casket (Yeah)
Riding through the city
With the headlights beaming
I been by my lonely girl
You know that I been
and stuff it
Got so much work
That the Taxes refunded
Get to dipping and ducking
I'm dripping in kerosene
A match lit in my stomach
I'm setting it off
Latifah
already knew me
Her body a brick house and skin like Drambuie
I flex like my Armstrong and spit like Louis
Love a lady with class
(I'm not into groupies)
Simba logged me in twice, this nigga 2 hundred
I'm in Louis Buyin shit, I aint thru stuntin'
Burberry ain’t have the hat I want I bought the new bucket
dem kids
Im up early in the am, I got a few places to go
Ima slop these hogs then to da fishing hole... I reckon Ill come back with a FishTale or 2...
-- a fuel line and a bar
Still he goes down for the aggravation
Short of vodka, like beside the Seine
With Louis Armstrong reckonin'
And way short
100k in that Louis luggage
I'm big pimping like Pimp C
In the Gucci bucket
My coupe disgusting, lil Weezy voice yuh
Mercy with the doors up
Not Yeezy
to the yard
(Let's go) try to hold your composure when
All the Romans come over
I got a whole league of soldiers
You got a hole in your shoulder
Now I'm
to Mc'D's or 10 piece nuggets
You ain't got bread man you chatting rubbish
Better think twice fore I hit you in the socket
Hole in one bars hit you like
The player of the ball and Louis slippers had to do 'em
My bucket list was livin' good and goin' to hell and I'm halfway through it
Slide me a check
by The Bell
Everyone is coming to your house
(Coleman Hawkins and Lester Young
Buddy bolden and Charlie too
Calloway and Armstrong
Al Cohn and Sam
of shit
It comes as good intention
When them bells rung and names drop
Hit's as good as mentioned
I was looking for a spot and
Cut a hole in the fence
Then
exposed
And filled with bullet holes
Choppa arrange your funeral
I'm tryna get rich while you sittin in a cubicle
Addicted to the wealth it's bad for my
Hennessy
I'm chained by vices that set me free
All this bullshit upsetting me
All this input's unsettling
Bam Armstrong, just keep pedaling
Like Jacob, just
heartbreaker
And I stand by it can flying
Blowing at your head like a hair dryer
Eastside nigga
My whole hood full of Scarfaces
Guns in guitar cases, blood
the other
Side they want me dead
Catch me slipping roll up on me
Put a hole in my head
And the chronic just to got
Me even more paranoid
Looking out
Buddy Bolden Louis Armstrong Jelly Roll Morton and Fats Domino
Easy to be noble
When you're sunning in the breeze
Find out who's got what
When you're
Passed down like 4x100m relay
It's a dash to the summit
And Hustlers can't stomach crabs in the bucket
That would cash in their mothers facts
You not
show my ass out in public, you'd do the same shit if you came from nothing
I made it out, niggas say I got lucky, I'm doin' my thing, only God can judge
hole in that ass 'cause I'm straight out the swamp
Creepin' up on site, now it's Fright Night
My Wu-Tang slang is mad fuckin' dangerous
And more
hole in that ass 'cause I'm straight out the swamp
Creepin' up on site, now it's Fright Night
My Wu-Tang slang is mad fuckin' dangerous
And more
a red Corvette
Tore out the buckets from a red Corvette
Lionel and Dave and the Butcher made three
Well, you got to meet me by the knuckles
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