Оригинален текст
I'm on the inside looking out
At a world that's full of doubt
Very underrated, I'm the down south champion
But they sleepin' on me like they took a bunch of ampion
So I'mma go hard, got bars like brikers
Young money bitch, it ain't a squad, nothing like us
You ain't gotta listen to us, you ain't gotta like us
But you gon respect the team or be ridin' like bikers
Numbers don't rhyme but you lame rappers do
Talkin' 'bout a bunch of shit you never did and won't do
Got the game in the chokehold, it won't let loose
If you look pass the lies you could see that I'm the truth
Young j to the gutter like the top of your roof
Summer time, I just let the top drop on the coupe
Getting money, ain't nothing wrong with that
But these hate ass niggas lookin' like it's wrong, in fact
They just mad at the world cuz they broke and whack
In fact they probly just mad cuz they broke and wham
It's all good homie, yea, get your shot one day
And I'mma make a hundred grand by sunday
Nigga what? I ain't give a fuck
I ain't a wishing well nigga, don't try your luck
But I'mma wish you well and the best for your luck
But remember nigga, I'm the big dog, you a pup
It's gutta time 2, the hood gave me that name
Still shaking dice, 20.000 at the crab game
Still got some homies in the street in the crack game
And I promised I would give them jobs in the web game
Real nigga shit, that's real nigga spittin'
Real niggas do real shit, that's how I'm livin'
Nigga gifted with the whips, that's a motherfuckin' giveth
Goddamn, good riddens, I'mma punish all these niggas
I'm I'll with the rittens, my pin gon make me millions
I don't write what I'm thinkin', I'm just writin' what I'm feelin'
I'm high like the ceiling, styrophoam cup fill it to the rim
I'm sippin' on the purp, well nigga you can keep the gin
And losin's not an option nigga, all I do is win
I'm a god fearin' man, hit my knees when I sin
Hot puck, dust my jeans off and go get it in
Wake up the next morning to do the same shit again
Yea, back to the money, this young nigga hungry
Countin' paper til my hands hurt
Nigga, young money bitch
I'm on the inside looking out
At a world that's full of doubt
