Look, I does my stuff
Nigga thats a giving
I came from nothing look how a motherfucker living

Its 5 places, flat screen televisions
But I would trade it all back to get my brother out of prison
Wassup killer baby bro really miss you
But the champagne still pop and double bags fill up
Its SK's for niggas who wanna kill us
My best days is memories with my niggas
I talk money though I sound like skrilla
And I'm fly til I die,
My S does my propeller
They come to California for the women and the weather
But it aint no telling when the boys gon sell ya
And last year I was considered a failure
But this year I am getting money by the billions
And bitch nigga, remember what I tried to tell ya
I tried to sell you that

We fly till we die, fresh till the death
They hate to see us shine, So we dont show them nothing less
Hate to see us fly about to go on a jet
Put blue gucci seats in the cockpit
Rollie on my wrist and I dont tic
[?]...and thats a nice whip
I pull up on your bitch and all I say is this
You can stay where you at or you can take a trip
Lets go

End