(feat. Lunasicc, 151)
[Chorus: C-Bo]
All I ever wanted was a pair of Nikes
A Lexus, a mansion and eternal life
Maybe what it was, I was askin for too much
Prayin to God, thinkin 'did he give a f**?'
Twelve years old, I was always told
Every day I want it, that glitter ain't gold
But f** that sh**, I want a twelve inch dick
A Coupe, a chrome, and a money makin b**h
[Verse 1: C-Bo]
A 'Lac, front, back, man, I wish I had it
In a brim, Rolex down wit a automatic
I be the sh**, pimpin hoes from Cali to Louisville
Strip em for money in Magic City and the A-T-L
Cos see these b**hes ain't sh** but investments
And they ain't worth sh** unless they makin profit
I need a money-makin b**h to satisfy my needs
Some p**y, dough, diamonds and G's
So when I swoop in my coupe, out to get my loot
Collect it from hookers more famous than Betty Boo
It be that, legalised pimpin that's keepin me above the water
f** a b**h, get rich and live the life of a baller
Cos a broke b**h ain't nuttin but a downfall
Unless she cement her money and her mind, y'all
And wit straight-laced game is how ya take control
I been practisin the sh** since twelve years old
[Chorus]
[Verse 2: Lunasicc]
One foot in the grave and eleven inches insane
Psychotic n***a named Lunasicc, squattin out them gold thangs
Slappin these b**hes, y'all can't be laggin on the payroll
Let's get your a** right back to the track before your face get steezo
I'm cold like the winter, get up in your flesh like a splinter
I dash with the cash then mash on the gas, prepare a hog for dinner
Creepin when I'm sleepin, my b**h ya want coasted
By the window, wit an AK ready for n***as wit their gunplay
Cap peelers, drug dealers, I thought you knew
That if you f** wit one of my n***as then you're f**in wit the crew
We roll deep like sheep, always strapped wit some heat
Original gangsta, f** a prankster, ride my nuts like a beat, huh
I'm bout it, bout it, but n***as like you, I doubt it, doubt it
I come thru, drinkin blue lookin bout it, bout it
Ready for the gunplay, move the crowd like we the O-Jays
Blastin like I'm crazy out the Colt wit my .3-80, Mafioso
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: 151]
Las Vegas, Lake Tahoe to Reno
b**hes on the highest floors of the casinos
bu*t naked, checkin money by the G stack
As I pose at the crap tables, sippin on yak
I'm just a baller, wit a grip of money-makin hoes
Might catch em fo'-deep in a C-Ville on triple golds
Wit cell phones and pagers as if it's on a grind
So to keep em an X-rated p**y is a goldmine
I'm on a major mission to increase my stacks to the highest climax
I'm wrapped up in my safe and G-pacts
Crackin like green weed sacks, for slangin, for danglin
Youngstas wit their pants hangin, g**nin, .45 stangin
Ain't no tamin, aimin, accurate, we hit em off and slid em off
They get off in the Valley, immaculately, sippin rally's
Winners are stackin chips up like alleys
From Seattle to Cali, the North of Valley, n***a
[Chorus]
b**h!