AGGIN LAER

[Verse 1] Fly diatribe, bloodline of the twelfth kind Look inside his mind Let's see what we'll find A bit of vindictive, nigga hellbent with Visions of his competition kissing at his Timbalands Roman numeral for ten A live nigga, put this million dollar dick in twenty thousand dollar bitches Shorty work at Target, but I don't need no bargain She got a fat ass, I'm fucking Pardon if my lifestyle happens to offend you But these are the day to day things that we live through Real nigga skullies, real nigga hoodies I'm a real nigga, you can sense it in me Eight months ago, I was working in the parking lot Guarding a bunch of cars, I thought I'd never drive Coal turned into a diamond in the projects A nigga scheming on some money I ain't got yet Fuck money, bitches too, all I need is my niggas, that'll do (Peel off motherfucker) They say I'm up next I can tell by the press But I can't tell be these checks Trying to separate my [?] from distress Trying to navigate my way out of duress You can be Shawn Michaels or Marty Jannetty If you ain't watch wrestling, you didn't get that I kick back with [censored] Watching season 1 of The Wire, getting dick wet Caveman stroke, she can feel it where her ribs at Rubbing on a nigga tummy like he had a six pack I dig that Nigga live with that You missed that thinking it's just rap I could go on, but nigga fuck that [Verse 2: Goldie Glo] Shout a hoe, Goldie Glo, a pimp 'till I die She didn't see me coming 'till I put my dick on her eye Tell her wobbity-wobbity Make her swallow it, swallow it Swinging round like a joystick Slurp it up, but don't gobble it From the motherfucking bottom with a dollar and a holla Those [?] shits so dumb, I had to go and pop my collar A player from the projects, all about the profits Blow that shit like I don't know that shit, all we do is progress I woke up this morning with two bitches in my bed, two guns under pillow, [?], turkey bacon, and eggs Do this shit and I'm true to this, pretty hoes I'm choosing this Every time I come around, I'm floating around that coup shit Fresh out the barber, looking like a father Cazal frames on my face, it cost more than your Prada Touch mine and I'll cross your face with a box-cutter I'm old school Come and fuck with these young players, stay away from those old fools