{*bang, bang*}
[Sheek Louch]
Yeah, Poobs whattup n***a?
Sheek Louch, new album comin son, _After Taxes_
{*tires squealing*} f**ed up
Aiyyo, f** that n***a, send him to the funeral home
Let a couple of them hot things sit in his dome
Let his family stand over him singin a poem
When I pull out and I bust my chrome
Girl or boy, I put it your neck like Troy
And I don't let bums beat me, I'm not like Roy
I'm a cut somethin off of your b**h-a**
Nice and easy, I'mma get the beef over quick fast
You muh'f**in right, it's goin down tonight
And I'm stressed, yo Poobs let me get the vest
Graveyard, I ain't workin with a lot of rest
Just crack addicts and mathematics
And I don't mean science or One World Alliance
Sheek use the iron like a household appliance
I'm the hardest n***a, I don't need a major
I can go indie like The Artist n***a
And get paper out the a**
Throw the deal in the bag and drive the red GT out the gla**
Hood all smashed, diesel and hash
Itchy trigger finger, I'm startin to get a rash
Y'all can f** off, or bust that off
Your little-a** guns 'bout as loud as a cough
Sheek Louch spit for them n***as up North
Shank wavin, misbehavin
Two treys blowin powder for the sh** they blazin
Two AK's 'n, one revolver
I've been workin at hustlin as long as your father
Y'all lil' n***as don't even bother
You ain't got no juice; you like a cell phone without the charger
I don't come half-a**ed
I come home with a big bag of j**elry, other half cash
Mean whiplash, plenty of horses
f** it if I crash, I take my losses
Sheek Louch n***a, accounts got bigger
But I ain't gon' retire, no disrespect Jigga
I'mma keep flowin 'til there's no more dough
Or I'm sick in the bed and my voicebox go
Motherf**er! YEAH! {Whatdja do that for?}