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Ho$h, kykie kinders!
Ons gaan mos nou lekker naai, nè?
I got what you want boy, I got what you want
I got what you want boy, you never going
(It's all so pointless
You're just gonna lose) (Maxii)

Beat sound like a ice-cream truck
That went to Hell
At a wrestling show surrounded by
Fat
CDG
Yuhhhhhhhhhhh
Never call me broke
You can never call me lazy
Fat as fuck
Bitches still want my babies
Sicker than some rabies
Nobody can save me
a 'PTS'
You're so pretty
You're so pretty
With a big fat ass
Imma 'PT'
I'm a 'PT'
I'm a 'PTS'
You're so pretty
You're so pretty
With a big fat a ass
Imma
threw a pair of gloves
Wants to get her ass beat by a fat dyke
And left the muddy ass bitch there for the night
Woke her in the morning, threw her in
cheap labor and fat profits by selling, to you
Before you say what I think, take a deeper look
Why are these people so poor that they need this work
No
rocket
Phony kickin' I can see it
Check that boy and then we poppin'

Aye he gon' work for that
She gon' twerk for that g-Star pockets fat
He gon' shoot
Boy, Fat Boy 
And her friends the Rat-A-Tat, boy
Matter of fact boy, this is not a act boy 
The player way, keep the player makin' stacks boy
She is little, cruel and crushin'
Take your tool while you're
Fooled by blushin'
Mind your head stead of findin' Russians
Plums a professor, ladies
Ain't no love in Oakland, bitch
Niggas always talkin bout 'I love you'
But ain't no love, bitch

Now it's a shame, I can't be saved by John
hate but we swell them lips, mad cause we bout to take a playa trip
To the doc boy on the yacht boy, Big Shot boy fat knots boy
Keep up boy you too
only winning cause I went
In and didn't wait
Chillin' at the crib by the time
You get your shit straight

Live free, die fat
Rock shot to a kill screen
a man
When I met Ann, I soked her pans
We ended up freakin' by garbage can
The next young freak I met was Red
I took her to the house and she gave me
Talking:
Double M.P in the place to be/ bitch who you came to see/ me that's who/ bouts to give you a dose/ of this black boy magic you feel me
fronts, she doesn't have a clue
Dug the boys in blue, sometimes I paid them off
Had trouble in the South, so I catch a train up North
Page me by my pager,
God pack god pack dis dat good thrax
Backwoods make sure u stuff it so its real fat
Smoke one to the face boy we dun did dat
One hundon bruh make
I was a timid, Rockwellian boy
She was tattooed and ready to deploy
Gave me reservation and the like
For she could be the dangerous type
But I
the knotty-headed nigga, rollin' right
Blunts by the boxes, I smuggle the chocolate thai to get me high when
I ran through more niggas, than any kid that was
to the day that I'm deceased
Even then I pray I'm living through these beats
Dope boy, you can tell by my sneaks
Burning Amsterdam green where it falls like
And I'm prepared for that (Oh, oh)
It's a big world, I got big schemes
And I'm 6'5''
(Uh) , if you count wings (That's right)
And I get by, off what I need
couple jurats that came on endz
And left in wet clothes looking all red
Bun it, pass it
Hit by a corn on the old block, nah
Bun a fat zoot with a neek,
of gettin' money how Bill Gates is
Young lives being taken by the .45
Genocide'll rise 'til glory die
Every other hour more bullets fly
Victim
there'll be no truce 
Ya boys'd break ya jaw if they ya peoples 
To stop ya yap from playin Doc Kevorkian 
I'll lock ya talk see then commence the mercy
[First Verse: Kangol Slim]
Picture me peelin' out in a Deville Lac
The Deville I'm peelin' out in is bustin' crushin'
Diamonds ain't no thang
Check

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