My Coogee is Nick Closs, sick Porsche
You ain't got a clue with this whip course
it's my jewelry that's pissed off
I'm cakin' for sure, face it, I'm raw
Shift the gear up to six,
quick, skate with your whore
See ya, don't play with the ball
A gun'll fuck your bumper
have to eat steak or straw
Screamin' down the hospital walls,
We keep trays in the door,
a couple K's in the floor
gon' bring mace to a war?
You ain't blurrin' my vision,
all these birds that I'm flippin'
And half of you dudes are certified snitches
I don't care who you are,
you heard that I'm sick, me
Twenty, these niggas like
Change your name to Ninja Turtles,
Party till the lights come on,
you breezin' out the back
But King Joffy, I'll put you in a sling, Aki
better bring some shells with you
You'll get your head popped off
soon as you elves whistle
if it's how Raoul's issue,
Jim Jones, 40 Cal, leave a nigga well crit,
the only movement mov in'
Hear me? Can't fuck with us?