Gold medals Them my role models Rolling old models, lowered old schools Flowing cold and going (?) Flower bearing, call it petals to the floor Power sharing, call it devils to the door Power, power, till it ain’t no devils anymore Flower, flowers, they be dropping at the feet of my son Move a thousand miles per hour down the street of my slum (?) to the beat of my drum It was little Susie (?) She so cracking, (?) a k**er All pitch, don’t tick Wasn’t trapping with no n***as Had a long money (?) and that action for them figures (???) Ask me could she get inside She pointed at her pistol so I properly replied Told me, out here in the streets, she ain’t have no competition And with me up on the beats, that we shared the same description (?) to her lips, she said, “Now here’s my proposition†You just write up all your raps for me and I’ma go and spit it Then we take ‘em to the radio, the DJ (?) spin ‘em Then we take ‘em to the radio and sell a couple million