Trae I see ya, Rose
You know what it is
My attitude is fuck it, house big as Publics
Shoppin' is a pleasure, pinky ring a nugget
N***as like the ride, sip lean out the bucket
I lean to the side, white whip Michael Douglass
Hard times call for drastic measures
I call my dog, he bought a mac 11
Forty rounds hollerin' where are y'all at?
N***a dead serious, chopper with a shoulder strap
Microphone, Michael ? on I know I'm wrong
The man up above love for me to sing them poems
So sing along, you know the song I sing
Bring them t hings along, I gotta feed the team
It's ROSE, I need 100 bottles
Yellow bitches, all of them swallow
H town, n***a three oh five
I can move them packs, each and every night

Ugh, chyea
Triple black Panamara phantom of the streets
Quarterbackin bricks on top of these glass cleats
All these stones on my my neck and wrist part of the streets
Used to ? and danger that was part of my ?
I'm in the hood under surveillance buncha haters watchin'
Couple choppers out for dinner, failin' ain't an option
Reclinable seats, invisible ceilings
Competition is murder, haters I'm killin'
Fuck a money machine, I don't count it I blow it
Bitch my money conceited, it look good when I throw it
I'm a asshole, therefore my temper is reckless
I'm the city of Houston, you can tell them its Texas
The king of the streets, somewhere deep with gorillas
Behind something that's tinted, bitch you see the gorillas
These other dudes yellin' truth, they only imitation
And when I see them its fuck 'em minus the penetration