Check 'em son irregular
Ahead of the pack, chips in the brain
By 21, Living for fun
I punch c*nts in the dum dum
Like bam bam, oh f**
It's the thug life, thug living
Accustomed to d**, and illuminati
Bust and run, coming for funds
AP Cla**es like mola**es the flow smooth
Like bu*ter, grab him
Bust and f**, f** her c*nt
Heavy situation now, situated clouds
Listen to the sounds in the loud pack
That I breathe, and I sneeze back
WHen I f** with couple g's
Grand fantasia, please lil cease
Attack, grab my pants
I got f**ing crabs, wouldn't stand
Back unless i packed 10 gats in the back
Of a ziplock bag that i keep my green stashed at
Flying future man leave misses inside the cootcher
Hoochie couch mama's in the booty juice
Slipping in the whole foods, Flipping cash
For the losers, on the loose like goons who abuse
Sloots groupies grouped up j**s
With loose tooths choosing up
See the googoo mama's of the groove bus