Оригинален текст
Verse 1
I let my watch talk for me, my whip talk for me
My gat talk for me, BOW! What up homie
My watch saying hi shorty we can be friends
My whip saying quit playing b*tch get in
My earring saying we can hit the mall together
Shorty its only right that we ball together
I'm into bigger things y'all y'all know my style
Ya wrist bling bling, my s**t bling blow
My pinky ring talk it say fifty I'm sick
That's why these is on my d*ck
Some hate me, some love my hits
Flex my man he gon bump my s**t
See I'm liar man I really don't care
I tell them hoes whatever they wanna hear
You try and play me I'ma blaze you then
My cross cost more than the crib ya momma raised ya in
Chorus x2
I was a poor nigg*
Now I'm a rich nigg*
Getting paper now you can't tell me s**t nigg*
You can find me in the fo' dot six nigg*
In the backseat fondling ya b*tch nigg*
Verse 2
New York , copy like it's all good
fk around we crip-walking in the wrong hood
I'm fresh up out the slammer, I ain't no fking bama
I'm from N.Y. whody, but I know country grammar
See me I get it crunk, nigg* go head and front
I go and pop the trunk, come back, pullout and dump (yeah)
My money come in lumps, my pockets got the mumps
You see me sitting on dubs, that's why u mad chump
Don't make me hit ya up, be sure to split ya up
I lay you down, them coroner will come and get ya up
See 50 play fa keeps, and 50 stay wit heat
I can't go commercial, they love me in the street
I'm real blood man, the hood love me man
Don't make me show up in ya crib like bro-man
Locked up in a pen, I still do my thing
C-O screaming shut the fk up in the pen
Chorus x2
I'm in the Benz on Monday, the BM on Tuesday
Range on Wednesday, Thursday I'm in the hooptay
Porsche on Friday, I do things my way
Viper or Vette, I tear up the highway
Shorty she can tell ya about my d*ck game
But she don't know me, she only know my nickname
Left the hood and came back, d*mn s**t changed
These young boys, they done got they own work man
Chorus x2
