check, check, check. 1, 2, 1, 2, 1, 2.
diamonds hang around my neck; the crib is all finished.
no love for these b-tches i said this year is all business.
it is a shame that a couple of them are off limits. no offense to my n-gg-.
it’s just the industry small, we all l-st for the same women.
you know the ones we saw before we came in it.
i know he ain’t trippin’.
i know i got a couple things that lil wayne dipped in.
ain’t afraid to admit it: i be the same with it.
this sh-t is all about hits and misses.
the ones that you f-ck and the ones you wife up.
just don’t let them f-ck your life up.
half a mil to perform, i can’t let em f-ck that sh-t up.
plus i love the way my middle name looks when it’s lit up.
jim moore got me dressing like a leading man.
a little favour for a friend when i need a hand.
young frank, suits cut right always.
just got a couple warhols for my hallways.
new verses crush the hood like i’m driving into somethin.
b-tches on the kid like i’m iverson or somethin.
like a sixer since i sold six eighty in my first.
drizzy drake, the only one that got the gift without the curse.