Killer Mike - Lower Case (no cap) lyrics

[Verse 1: Big Boi] Just another motherfu*king day out in Atlanta, it's your ni**a, Daddy Fat One half of the mighty O, them playa-listic Cadillac Boys riding through your city, if you with me, bring it back I'ma stay styling, wilding, profiling while sticking to the facts See, 'round here we doin' laps while some might be feeling trapped Never hating, just graduating, I been done threw the cap No cap, do the dash and cruise the map, do the math I've been around the world and I, I, I, I, I am true to that Now who is that? B-I-G Boi, first generation D-boy I be designated P-I-M-P and you's a peon Canary-yellow diamond in the pinky ring, now kiss it Keep it so exquisite, bro official, ho, we on a mission We the tissue-tissue, you the toilet paper, go on and flush it Told the baddest man to hit the hand, I had to go on and touch it, ni**a [Chorus: Sleepy Brown] Rolling through the city, got the radio thumping Just ran up another bag, can't nobody tell me nothing How you love that? (How you love that?) Tell me how you love that (Tell me how you love that) It feel good to be a player, baby, catch me off in traffic Got me swervin' all the lanes, steady dodging all the static How you love that? (How you love that?) Yeah, tell me how you love that (Tell me how you love that) [Verse 2: Killer Mike] One time for the money, two time for the figure Three time for the b*tches and they b*tch-ass ni**as I like money, like hoes, fresh clean clothes I can speed-dial Diddy, still texting with Hov Put that on me, b*tch, first name Michael Ain't sh*t, ni**a, but I ain't a damn liar And I'm really bein' honest, b*tch, you can take it higher Your dances are trash and your head ain't fire Boss bigger, boss bigger, mean money go-getter Seven-figure ni**a still in the hood with the pistol But the paper all come from the pad and the pencil And the house been paid off and own twenty rentals I'm pimping like Pippen in a Lincoln Continental Say my name right, ho b*tch, Michael fu*king Render [Chorus: Sleepy Brown & Big Boi] Rolling through the city, got the radio thumping Just ran up another bag, can't nobody tell me nothing How you love that? (How you love that?) Tell me how you love that (Tell me how you love that) It feel good to be a player, baby, catch me off in traffic Got me swervin' all the lanes, steady dodging all the static How you love that? (How you love that?) Yeah, tell me how you love that (Tell me how you love that, yeah) [Outro: Big Boi] Soon as we step out the door, y'all know what time it is, know what I'm talking about? From the tennis shoes or the hard bottoms all the way up to the cap And we don't even be cappin', you feel me? Daddy Fat Sax, man, Sleepy Brown It's a Dungeon Family affair, broadcasting live from Stankonia The place where all the funky things come from Know what I'm talking about? Are you having a good time? You know what we doin' over here, man, you feel me? We gon' hit the summer from the back Yeah-yeah