(Babe Reg)
Yeah yeah
Woke up one morning to see my n***as from high school
Checc it out
Babe Reg...Mr. Doctor...Foe Loco
(Babe Reg)
Woke up one morning out some bomb a** cocc
My dick kinda limp so I cruise around the blocc
Call my cousin Doc as I swoop in the drop
Stop by my homie Foe house to puff on the ounce
Seen my little homie Twamp who I ain't seen in a while
n***a gone been floatin on clout nine
Headed to the Liquor sto', got some mixed gin and juice
Got a quarter pound of k**s so I'm fucced up for real
Seven, eight, nine ten eleven twelve
Bailed bacc in the crib (For what?) Because I'm all-in
Conversated then I dug the hoe out
I fixed me some food, then go the hell out
Two A.M. on the diz-ot, I pause and I stiz-op
I reminisce on that a** that I riz-occed
And now I'm high as a kite
Yeahh, and I'm feelin alright
Four A.M. as I stoll bacc to my crib
To see what's with my woman and my newborn kid
(Mr. Doctor)
With my mind on my money and my money on my mind
We do this everyday about the same time, be-otch!
(Foe Loco)
Up at Rosemont Park one day, that's when I saw her face
She looked kind of cavi to me
And when I take her home, and tap that a** I'm gone
I'm just a hog don't blame me
(Mr. Doctor)
Yeah, yeah...yeah, yeah
Now do I love them hoes? (Reg: n***a hell naw)
And why is that? (Reg: Because we some gangsta's Doc)
(Reg: And we don't never give a fucc about a b**h
To Odysea...b**hes ain't sh** but hoes and triccs)
Ha hah, dee dee dadi dadi dah
Listen to the sounds from my n***a Mr. Doc
While I slide through the city in the rag six-tre'
Hoppin like a mutha fucca tryin to find some play
Hittin all the spots but I'm comin up blank
I'm headed to the liquor store to get myself some drank
Parks my ride as I, steps inside, as I
Slips my Colt 45 by my side, as I
Continue with my mission
p**y is my dish and I'm dishin, dishin
Upon a star, to come up on some ends for my caviar
And a little bit of p**y
So I can get my pimp on
Cause my pig gets my pimp on from G to Odysea, n***a
(Babe Reg)
I put my pen, on cold Ohio nights
And the b**h didn't freezed up when I wanted her to write
Put my pen in the hot California sun
And the b**h didn't swear nor run
What's up girl, you know you look good
But you got to pay me cuz you ain't from my hood
I need skrills, gotta pay the bills
And you lookin kind of over the hills
Make my money...bring it home
Cuz I don't wanna have to knocc you in your dome
b**h...where my money at
Don't start to runnin batch
I might have to slap you
Don't want to have to slap you
Don't want to have to bacc you
Up of the N
Up off the North, up off the South
Up off the East and West
b**h...them breasts is my tits
I run you, I want all of it
I'm the balla b**h
Bring all skrills cuz you know