DJ Muggs
Dolph Lundgren
[Verse 1]
Trust ain’t ever been my strongest attribute, uh
I’m not tripping, I’m just doing what I have to do
This rapping blues, it just comes natural, you jacking, fool
I’m too valuable to be hanging around you dudes, uh
Don’t let this silky soft skin fool ya
My heart is cooler than winters in Vancouver
Pull the Grand Coupe up, it’s brand new like Grand Puba
I keep good shooters, we like the Indiana Hoosiers
Uh, I put something sharp in your plumbing
I’m not the one to come and fuck with, youngin
I bust your shit like Dolph Lundgren
Yeah, I’m still with the dumb shit
Uh, i8 with the transparent doors
Hoes pop that pussy on the handstand for us
I’m a force in Air Force, backdoor
My bitch like Tracy Ellies Ross, don’t ever sell yourself short
Running errands in the red McLaren
Blaring Gil-Scott Heron while n***as pill pop and sip syrup
Rock the Bally kicks with arrogance
You got hit, the battle commence, we straddling the fence
Two hundred pounds condense
The foundation of the house is brick and cement, man
Bow down and submit

[Break]
Yeah, you heard me, n***a, bow the fuck down, you heard me
Watch out, watch out, n***a, huh, check it
[Verse 2]
Mink disabled, take the chain and bring it in for appraisal
Be grateful I don’t come put two in your grapefruit
While I chainsmoke, diamond chains choke
My face is like Johnny Fontaine’s, drive the Mercedes slow
I need ‘em to see this, the scene resembles Egypt
I was lucid dreaming while squeezing my beautiful penis
Behemoth, don’t treat no ho lenient
I come through shooting like the show was greenlit, uh
Common sense’ll tell ya my diamonds glisten like a 10 percenter’s
My time is spent like Pimpin' Ken, my n***a
We from a different era
All my shit is tailored, all your shit’s whatever
All my shit is tailored, all your shit’s whatever
Two hundred dollar’s worth of dope in a Swisher Sweet
Sour D, wax, Girl Scout, kief, hashish
A cash heap, free Max B, get money tax free
This actually has to be a masterpiece, I’m displaying mastery
They thought I was Robert Greene, my CDs are art gallery
My hoes get the cash, I don’t burn the calorie
I don’t walk, they just carry me

[Outro]
Haha
Bitch, you mad
You gotta go
I know it sound cold, bitch, you gotta go
I’m moving on to bigger things, bitch
I’m done
N***as, don’t y’all ever get it fucked up, n***a
There’s only one, n***a, that’s me
N***a, that’s me, baby
Don’t you ever get it fucked up, boy
Fucking suckers, yeah
But it’s all in love, n***a, this banging’s all in love, n***a
It’s gon’ hurt me more than it’s gon’ hurt you
Daddy’s home