STS x RDJ2
Dice Game
[Verse 1:]
Shooting at the stars, almost hit Mars
Tag the sun on the side, tryna see the Lord
Gimme me 2, 3 a 12 and I'm gonna see hell
7 or 11 and I might just reach heaven
But if I could work it 9 to 5, more for the 10
But then I bet straight money, don't go in for the win
Coming Album, Corn liquor, sell a n***a down Southeast
Nickname chicken grease, she look like a beany white burn
When i'm hot, n***a put down
She knows my gang crash when them slang
No Ivory days, running the ankles
Your hands, on the stand like
Anybody get in my pockets till I'm home
Two shades in the blow, baby leave the fam lets go
6 off the first n***a, making a haste, bringing it back
Learning the hard way, made a plan
Haters say [?]
Hand tossing, nice and flat
Hitting the bricks like click clack
Juice trays, how you love that?
Without my right hand, cold hands
Switch to south past, love hand golden
Shake twice, blow in before gone
Ritual to get richer dirt, they doing nice pictures
7 when am soft, but 11 when am on, bet 20 for a thong
He said hold that, but less than 50
Quickly he said, I'd rather be with that
These n***as don't know my hustle gang
Like it's all a fame, I see through all the rabbit
Understand, have the stands in the game of chance
Know the circumstances, the romance that gets me back at it
Even when I stink like crap, and I shoot until I'm sick
[words unclear] man if the money quick grab at it
Gotta have it like my nick bad habit
9 out of 10, average cut talking let me get back at him
The average of the talk between your legs
Ass back, you showing off as if it matters
Then you scream out snake eyes, you cocky bastards
Verily is the sin, I say no it can't be of God made man to worship him
I throw him for a loop when I was religious with my performance
As they keep toss the buckets, they fuck the bad shit
As for the gas they path, I survive all prison
[?] hand to hand hustle with man that break his ass for the pack

[Verse 2:]
Is that death I smell? Too bulls and am cool
Do my dos [?] that I would like to revolution
Cotton tooling and cut the fools, 48 is an amule
They say n***as you still on that shit
A tap and hustle [?] activist money and shit
But the pacifists do the numbers, no act as if this pacifist has been forgotten
N***as been begging craps at the bottom of crabs and the bottom from Jackie [?] to Hilary Robin
Everybody just shoot the [?], hold on I got him
For all the fly, I drop 5 on 9 like the tower
You can't catch me 7 or 11 twin tower
Bring your cash for more scratch, the most cash is working 8 hours
Dice in my left hand, right hand pop my collar
Next day, next dollar, a hustler's holler
Next day, next dollar, you hear the hustler's holler

[Outro:]
Shooting at the stars, almost hit Mars
Tag the sun on the side, tryna see the Lord
Gimme me 2, gimme me 3 or gimme me 12 and I'm gonna see hell
7 or 11 and I might just reach heaven
But I could work it 9 to 5, more for the 10
Then I bet straight money, don't go in for the win