Bout it, Bout it

I came up on that old shit That white tee, Reebok, and that Girbaud shit That Pepsi Super Fair at that Superdome shit Look, this is New Orleans, we on some home shit So shouts out to No Limit And that old Cash Money, not that new business Rest in peace to Mr. Magic and to Soulja Slim and K.C. Redd, Lil Snupe, and the Magnolia misses But back to what I came for Because I ain't work that hard to stay the same bruh And I ain't get that degree to stay in the same hood But when I got back home, I came to the same hood Marengo off Freret Thats just a hop, skip, and a jump from out the 'jects Thats where the trunk pop, lift, and then they at your neck This isn't trap rap homie, this is about respect And I ain't even trying hard This ain't hot, I just rely on that nostalgia card I got the mic and I ain't handing off My name known from California to Kandahar So old school, got these women riding my handlebars I'm fiending for a Jasmine, Aladdin climbing the palace walls I'm starting to get a little ratchet Who trying to take a shot with your boy Adam? That's laughter on this track boy No ghostwriter, cause ain't no Casper on this track I said respect to P. Miller, but I'm the master on this track I spit disaster on this track Boy I'm the answer on this track So no further questions Sit your ass down, class back in session