Chorus (Carolyn) We we we mobbin We hoggin and we doggin We creepin and we crawin It's time to do you all in Verse 1 (Lucky) Hold up im too thowed, im the young capo 5 star general, lucky luciano Yo my checks too fat, the banks can't cash it Gimme ten days, meanwhile I got plastic Country to country I live in hotels No ashy elbows, pedicured toenails Sittin on a beach chair, 200 dollar chanclas Am I in acapulco or puerto vallaca Sippin outta pineapple actin a fool Step out on my balconey and check out my view Im lookin brand new, I get menages crunk Lucky look cleaner then andre monk Open up my closet and you're in the galleria Im the sh** homeboy, call my lucky diarrhea Covered in diamonds, get a load of this wrist Just to show out and stunt, im the dope house prince Chorus (2 X's) Verse 2 (SPM) Im kinda hotta than lava, I got a dog that slobba I might be yo father betta ask yo mama I practice karate like the boy chuck norris Im papa bear im like "who the hell dem eatin my porridge" Im still ralph lauren and im still mike jordan Im still comin down Orem just floorin the foreign Never borin or simple, man im really excitin I go to clubs and be fightin, I be kickin and bitin I might poke ya eye out , I dont fight that fair I fought a dude with some braids and started pullin his hair But my boys back me up and leave nobody standin Im like "why y'all jump in? man I almost had'em" And they was like "los, he was beatin yo a**" I was letting him get tired, man you messed up my plans Anyway, I'mma write a song about it, and tell All my fans that I beat him up all by myself--haha Chorus (2 X's) Verse 3 (Low-G) I might play chalupa, thats mexican bingo Peace to my boys up in coffield and beto My benz take diesel, dejame explico If I hit the pen walk around with a pico I used to slang cincos, chilled on domingos Dickies look young ain't got no wrinkles Shoot like ming when he hit 12 footaz I be pullin hoes like a kid pick boogaz You can see my rolli when I dip guacamole Gotta all white pit like angelina jolie I put red dots on 9 milla Glocks Might make you think that you got chicken pox Got rims like a spida, weed to the lighta Its ya boy low, ima k**a not a fighta Roll with china, phone off the ringa I know you hear the hook, n***a thats my lil prima Chorus (2 X's) (Bash) Im at the dope house smoked out, baby bash loc'd out Doin tracks with charlie brown whe broe out He choked out his C.O., did it on the D-lo Went to see his wife and his daughter and his mijo The game is so frio, now he tippin Styrofoam Said he gotta be right back before th lights is on Buts its al gravity, learn from tragedy Just to let you konw cold tem batches be Cause when it comes to the jealous man it gets messy I f** around and gotta turn into some joe pesci I pimp the blood out ya mama and ya loved ones Sell dog sh** to ya uncles and ya cousins And guaranteed that you won't say nada Radio or not, man you still dont want no brrr--aa, brrr--aa And thats the really realest sh** I ever spoken Dot get twisted mayne, dope house is still open