Oh shit, the nigga had a pair
of Air Olden Polynice's on
Oh shit, the nigga had a pair
Rockin' the latest in, every day
Rockin' the latest in Ben Stillaways
Fuck that, the next big thing, lay this
I was Dashing through the hood
Eighteens with the whip, smoke gray
Leavin' skid marks on five- oh,
Yo son we gotta make that cream
whether raps or Nixon times
They call me Rollie, watch me polly
with the wide body Dinali
rocked enough ice to play hockey
she popped a wheelie on the candy apple Kawasaki
philosophical for those who copy
I'll probably splash her tonight,
Sippin' on Lime Bacardi got me toxy
Plus the Cali 'dro holdin' me,
I'm 'bout to 'scape like the Roxy
Ever property, Monopoly, big shotty
whether in the concert hall or in the lobby
got me duckin' Rudy Giuliani
Like I'm still coppin' big
ain't mean to catch the body
But had 'em wobbly off the first blow,
I'm known to pump ya blood like
Kamikaze, might karate chop
ya head like a natty dread
Then call myself Collar Ratsi
I give the autographs but charge
Not hardly kid, you awkward Godbody
just started to rock Wallys
spas off this ghetto opery
you're batty boy without ya posse
Broke the unmarked fifty with
this cabby who was a gypsy
said he loved his bills crispy
Drivin' the streets he kept heat on the night,
Quickly, who ring bells like it's
While the stage catch shells
Mere fact that the track was
soldiers hittin' the heart
Tainted the fabric of an empire,
Brought to a halt from a front full assault
The chemist left the lab with
The audience threw nuts with loose
The archives automatically changed
It was layin' in the zip drive