Mhm

I ran up a couple thousand in the projects, mm-hmm A menace to the judge, the hood don't like the profit, mm-hmm I'm selling songs, I gave up on the narcotics, mm-hmm Put this shit on like them folks got my a stylist, mm-hmm Do you got cake? Mm-hmm You chasing pape', mm-hmm Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, oh yeah Mm-hmm, oh yeah Mm-hmm, oh yeah Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, mm-hmm, oh yeah I walk in with three hoes, that's a thirty, ten, ten, ten They go drop a diss, tornado gang, we spin, spin, spin Like Mike Epps and Ice Cube, I'm all 'bout my Benji's If they play about my money, I'ma mad, man, man, man (Yeah) If they think I'm running out of money Then them dummies gon' be thuggin' For a very long damn time (Damn time) She think she P, lil' bitch, I'm P-er, I treat you like a eater I'm blocking hoes like I'm on the line (On the line) I'm pickin' up when money call, balling like I'm Spaulding And I ain't tryna kick it with no niggas, so don't Play soccer She walk into my room like an adult walk out, just like a toddler You knowin' what that mean Lil Darius put that dick up in her box (Yeah) I ran up a couple thousand in the projects, mm-hmm A menace to the judge, the hood don't like the profit, mm-hmm I'm selling songs, I gave up on the narcotics, mm-hmm Put this shit on like them folks got my a stylist, mm-hmm Do you got cake? Mm-hmm You chasing pape', mm-hmm Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, oh yeah Mm-hmm, oh yeah Mm-hmm, oh yeah Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, mm-hmm, oh yeah I know I'm the biggest snake, like a tree, I'm having pape' They think its my birthday everyday the way I'm having cake I just flew my bitch out to Miami, know she can't fit her jeans Whole gang forever ball, they think that we got leukemia Out of they league, no competition, they can't even compete with me In my bookbag, I got a whole lotta paper like a geek My brother, mm, got a whole lotta bodies like a freak Big motherfuckin' choppa, BMF, I fuck with Meech (Blaow) I pop out, I'm fresh as hell, nobody in my family got them M's I guess I broke the spell Drop a ten, my partner fix it all and he don't leave a trail I can go and tap my country boy It cheaper when you just go through the mail (Ha) I ran up a couple thousand in the projects, mm-hmm A menace to the judge, the hood don't like the profit, mm-hmm I'm selling songs, I gave up on the narcotics, mm-hmm Put this shit on like them folks got my a stylist, mm-hmm Do you got cake? Mm-hmm You chasing pape', mm-hmm Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, oh yeah Mm-hmm, oh yeah Mm-hmm, oh yeah Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, mm-hmm, oh yeah