[Produced by DJ Nasty, L.V.M. & The Runners]
They thought I lay dead, I was playing possom
Spot me everywhere with the 8 like Kate Goslin
Niggas think they sit at the top, they just posturing
Now they hide their head like an ostrich
Optimus Prime and that gull wing feeling like I transform
Niggas still hands on, whip it like a sandstorm
Had the audacity to sell it in a damn poem
Get you higher Angelo, the author of this anthems
Your punch lines are mere jabs, they see through
Like the clear glass on that coupe I steer past
Money on my mind like my pillow is a vault
You niggas is soft so on that pillow’s where you talk
Can’t find it in them d-list actresses on mattresses
Your real chance to loving you bachelors, I laugh at them
Don’t you know that it’s money over bitches
Bitches love money, I granting them three wishes, Push
Shout out my ni*** Don C, aka Givenchy Don C
Ya ain’t even know that you got an aka did you?
Always in that fly shit, Mike Dean what up? Brendan
Or should I say international Brendan? Marcus Paul? Refresh, yeah
The fear of Gods in these motherfuck***
You can act like don’t hear this shit man
Niggas ain’t fuc*** with me man, no games, yeah
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