[Hook: OnlyOne]
See me when you see me, come if you want it
Admit it there isn't a problem you wanted
The people that know say I keep it one hundred
See me, my peoples be deep in the hundreds
Uh-huh, whatever keeps the fiends coming back
Always keep a G front to back
Bassman, hit 'em like...that, like that
[Verse 1: OnlyOne]
You yell like... *scream*
I hit 'em with the twelve like... *gun-shot*
Then they ring the bells like... *police sirens*
The beat from Notti's psychotic, with bodies that's on it
I'm Johnny Mnemonic
If it was made by LRG then I probably got it
I roll with a pound of each strain
It's my dough, I count it each day
Shut the fuck up! What you know about the weed game?!
If the cops come, my shit going down a sink drain
The beat from Notti's knocking, the paparazzis watching
Get killed like Johnnie Cochran
What that pill like? Oxycontin?
What you need in life, I got it for a even price
You screaming like... I freedom fight...
I'm getting bread, yeah I'm fucking with triple beams at night
The infrared, get abducted by a beam of light
You think I'm ducking you but man, that ain't even right
[Hook]
[Verse 2: Illmaculate]
I try to keep pace, I ride the heat wave
I write to keep sane cause life's a screenplay
And if so, you don't know what part I got
I roll drunk while I'm toasting Bacardi shots
So what? Call the cops!
They'll probly bring coffee
If you say I'm "doing doughnuts" in the parking lot
Load up, target locked
Flashing like reporters' cameras
I put that nail in your coffin, we go to war with hammers
I'm bored with rappers recording practice, and I adjust
Exploring boundaries since normal standards ain't high enough
Kinda drunk, high as fuck, driving up
Trying to act sober, life is tough then you pass over
Cash low when my hat's lower
You George Clooney in a war movie
You only know how to act soldier
I'm that cold and I Stat Quo'd it
In rap mode I slap hoes and I act vulgar
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Goldini Bagwell]
This is something I do best
Load one up and take it to the head, like Russian roulette
North by new West, my dude, we're too fresh
So who's next to fly over the Cuckoo's Nest?
They call me Mr. Good Stuff
The way I hook that gourmet cook up like a sous-chef
And I can guarantee all the little fiends
Will quite literally "love it to death"
Get it while you can, there's only a few left
The connect's running low on his toes, ducking a few Feds, no
Payments unfold if you don't go direct
Middlemen get caught switching hands with the briefcase
I'll take that!
30 percent tax is a threat, that's high stakes for cheapskates
Now make like a born again and leap faith
You wanted that crack so we gave you freebase
And that shit hits, don't you agree? Gee, thanks
[Hook]