(Verse 1 Fruit Boy)
I be rolling papers while my n***as repping rollies
I be rolling down the street like baby you don’t know me
My n***as sip coronas I’m sipping Arizona’s
Your bitch from Barcelona, I make your bitch Mona
Lisa I pray to ma Teresa to make my wage increase a
Your house a fucking lease-a my girls a fucking keeper
I chilled with the grim reaper put a hole in a store keeper
I’m knee deep-a in my emotions with my hand and some lotion
My life’s in slow motion with a notion of your life moving like a race car
This shits bizarre puffing on cigars like Jordan
Digging graves for prison wardens
I be dunking on ‘em like braves treating ‘em like slaves
Lincolns rolling in his grave I’ll let it sink in hit me up on linked in
I’m a has been throw me in the looney bin
You’ll have to call my next of kin I’m like west berlin
Cos I’m all alone
Always playing on my phone
(Verse 2 Fruit Boy)
Cos yea im a white n***a
My skin is light n***a
Win every fight n***a
They see my height n***a
They in fright n***a
Eat every night n***a
Shot on sight n***a
Paramedics arrive n***a
They try n revive n***a
ID rather die n***a
Yo bitch is shy n***a
Tasty as pie n***a
Need an alibi n***a
To get high n***a
In the public eye n***a
Reclassify n***a
Undersupply n***a
Bye bye n***a
(Verse 3 JAY Z)
Dark n***a, faux n***a, real n***a
Rich n***a, poor n***a, house n***a, field n***a
Still n***a