[Verse 1: Wally Left]

This is patented braggadocio
Still ain't text that broad back and my coke still on the coaster
This is for my homies telling coast to get his dough up
And the honey dips shown love that ain't jumping ship
I kept it '88! Champ rings on my fingers
Ya lady's a swinger
I could've jacked her bases like Jackie
I swing the louisville
Game like jews be with the loot
Trying to take it back? You blow. You like Zelda with the flute
I'm seldom with recruits, my whole squad solid
Yo broad saw it, if I wanted i'd slide a glove on
Beat it up like Muhammad
Nah, I ain't bout it. You can chill the fuck out
Your gums bumping? You can get drug out the dug out
I was Benny in the sandlot
Fresh out the sandbox
I swung and hit it out of the park to the trash man's lot
I gots no luck so I don't gamble at the damn slots
Still I hit a jackpot like a lick at the hash man's spot
I ought to be hall of fame… i'm '88 Dodger worthy
My tapes are free.99… I can't even cop a jersey
I read Decoded, trying to get my mogul on
It's "Left Coast Get The Money" or "Left Go Get Ya Homeless On"
They hate when n***as sell out
I swear they hate stepping out the house and shelling out
A Benjamin for an album when labels deal em out more
What for?? It's fucking sickening how
Ya music is what they feeling. Release date comes around and *crickets*
You switch up and then they're livid
Y'all don't deserve opinions
That's just what I observed from the curb… i'm chillin
But get 'em slugger
Base runner on the bass on a daily basis
Heart of a dodger taught him the basics

Playboy, hold up, you talking about Wally? You got to watch him son
He a new jack, if you eaten he Robinson! N***a be jacking them bases like pewm, pewm, pewm!

World series champ shit! That's how it's lookin' boy
My name Left. I'm nothing like them Brooklyn boys

Cuz I Kept It '88!