[Verse 1: Juice]
Overload and overgone
Time to get this paper on
Fetti Mozarelli, modern day Fonzerelli
Or DMX and Belly
I'm still smooth though
Rick Rude ho, never played the fool roll
Psychedelic renegade, higher than the other day
Free your mind, or get trapped in yesterday
Eyes low, tell me what you wanna' do
OG puffa, n***a I will not lose
I toke a lot, I loke a lot
With the Flocka, word up to Big Poppa
You Craig & meg floppers
I'm smokin' like a rasta
New York diesel, get proper
I'm cliché, but this is my forte
Weed stay strapped and I'm packing like Green Bay
I'm a giant, André rack alief
I'm a monster, no Kanye required
[Verse 2: Meech]
Ready to die track 17 I'm suicidal
Ran out of dutchie so we use the paper out the bible [Repeat]
Smoking exotic piff, with an exotic b**h
Eyes low, chronic spliff
p**y wet, watch it drip
The high life I'm living
It ain't sinning if you winning
Everyday is haze blunts, scandalous women
True talk, I spit the art
Hunting money is my favourite sport
I walk the walk and p**y is something I never bought
I need a bad b**h, with really good features
We too high up, you never ever reach us
Nosebleed s**, I f** her in the bleachers
You know I like them chink eyes, thick thighs
Shirley Temple weave, hair look like curly fries
Who needs a gimmick, got real n***a features
Who needs a diamond ring when there's crystals on ya reefer