[Intro: Paco Panama]
(Damn Cel you perfect)
[?]
Yeah
The dog
Grab that car hit that road n***a what you scared of?
I remember sleeping in that trap, the couch had bed bugs
Pulling all-nighters, in that building me and lil' cuz
Yeah, who the fuck you thought it was n***a?
I’m the dog not the goat, I'm in the streets with it
When I'm in the field, I need some cleats ’cause I get deep in it
You n***as saved by the bell, you more like Screech with it
We gave that shit out to the trenches, I'm more like Meech with it

[Chorus: Paco Panama]
And you don't wanna see my power 'cause my youngings out here wilding
If I was the Smackman I would'vе dropped a bag on Bobby Johnson
Yeah, and evеry step calculated, like young Bobby Johnson
Calculated last month, it's a high balance

[Verse 1: Paco Panama]
Auntie buying 8 Balls, she got a high tolerance
If you look up in the rough, you could find a diamond
But I'm independent n***a I ain't signing
Already offered me a hundred, n***a I ain’t lying
But [?] read them contracts, n***a I ain’t blind
But I come up selling dimes, you can't stop my grind
Showed him the recipe he thought that shit was rocket science (Nah for real he thought that shit was rocket science [?])
You need to listen to this shit, if you need some street guidance
This ain’t trap music, n***a this is street knowledge
Now I could put you in a deep grave, 'cause I got deep pockets
I could walk a n***a to his death, like Bodie did Wallace
[Verse 2: Ot7 Quanny]
I'm with Paco on that road, he know how to play it cool
Me and him we just alike, he know how to cook that food
You know snitches they get stitches better not break that fucking rule
If I don't got no lean around than I’ll get in my mood
I could teach you 'bout that dog come here yeah I'll take you to school
I jump inside that Trackhawk and act a fucking fool
Took off all our jewelry and put on our rubber bands
We going 90 days straight in that country van
My name Sosa round the way they call me Money Man
Counting all this fucking cash yeah I need another hand
Grew up with my blood cousin and I don't even trust him
You might could cheat that bitch but you can't cheat the hustle
What you know 'bout Sandlot? Yeah my lil' n***as sliding
Only time you seen me bad was to the fucking coppers
In somebody else hood talking 'bout a night shift
My phone doing good, yeah I got the right pit
It's that birdhouse and you can tell how it smell
Yeah my hoodie Rick Owens and you can't even tell
Yeah we got that glass it come crystal clean
N***a, [?], yeah what you need?
I'm out Indiana with them
I'm out Indiana with them Hoovers like Jermain
Auntie going crazy she tryna find another vein
Broski spent 60 on a watch and it was plain
Real [?] died yeah I'm the same n***a
Wu-Tang Clan I came with ghost face killers
Yeah them out of town sales the one I love the most
Ain't nobody in here snitch? Let's make a fucking toast
One thing 'bout them bags you know them bags sold
I got real Mob ties like the Sopranos
I used to make a killing inside them bandos
That's another body when you hear that van close
[Chorus: Paco Panama]
And you don't wanna see my power 'cause my youngings out here wilding
If I was the Smackman I would've dropped a bag on Bobby Johnson
Yeah, and every step calculated, like young Bobby Johnson
Calculated last month, it's a high balance

[Chorus: Paco Panama]
And you don't wanna see my power 'cause my youngings out here wilding
If I was the Smackman I would've dropped a bag on Bobby Johnson
Yeah, and every step calculated, like young Bobby Johnson
Calculated last month, it's a high balance