Steady riding low, eyes steady swole
Feel like death row, 1994
$Uicide tears, dripping off our mothers
Bullets in the chamber of the pistol in the cupboard
Got a couple black tees with that indo sparkin'
Bitch, don't even look my way, 'cause I fucking hate talkin'
Got them spinners on a hearse, bitches for dessert
Pour me up a four, I'm sipping codeine till the dirt

Ridin' 'round Texas in a Lexus with a Florida license plate
Outta state, eating grapes, blowin' dank, no yank, bitch
Dry as fucking weed
$Lick, havin' a panic attack with the Mac on his lap
And now he makin' beats
Smurf in the back tryna get some sleep
Gas tank on E, not a stain on me, sunset, cool breeze
Looking at the Moon and then I turn into a goon
I'm doing what I please, throwin' up some fuckin threes

Shlide in deep while I’m tipped
Tryna run cash up
Steady fiending more income like
Damn bro, what I gotta do to get out of these problems I’m facing?
Light a smooth J in my right hand
Got bitches just like U2
Get the cash man

I didn’t always have for the cabman
Ain’t no tellin' what a nigga do to you
Shake your hand, or just shoot through you
I’m the man that you show respect

When seen cruisin' through
Either that or get that ass fanned up
Matter fact, I rather run bands up
Meet the pocket chopper, mini rocket-launcher
Stay out the way or get bagged up, nigga