Guess Who's Back At It Again...
Mr. Nunaya...Damn Business...stackin his chips...
the boy's more than just a couple of phrases...
gun tucked in the waist bend...run up in the place...quick...
like no body...go dolo...
ready to dig up in a nigga's ass...fuck a no-homo...
on Khomos...in a 05 bucket or I'm postin...
no locks...chome socks...touch it and it open...
my grip aint the only thing that is rubber...
margerine paint...interrior butter...
any bitch with me...I'm allowing to ride...
better...swallow her pride...while she drinking my nut up...
just cause a nigga dirty...don't mean that he gutta...
got 16's...beams and a snubber...
when I'm poppin a cap...you cats still thinkin it's a trucker...
glock in the dash...a couple g's up in the bumper...
keep reading mufukkas...the books on point...
Curt...stay in the line up...who gon point...?...
no nigga living got the cajones to do it...
I roll with a unit that spit boulders till your molars are loosened...
ask the streets...they'll tell you I'm not so bad...
I keep the cars like my dogs...they ain't got no tags...
unless I'm riding in another state...
bake game is feirce...flip pies...get a bunch of cake...
nice with the number 8...
if my pimp game matched my whip game...I'd retire with the .38...
I confide with the preachers...and preach to the hookers...
keep them on the right track...so I'm percieved as a booker...
I could go on about recipies for the cook up...
beans and the powder...toss rocks like a a meteor shower...
but I'd rather lay in the cut...blazing a dutch...
and watch Godfather while I'm facing a slut...
