Yo, homey don't play like that. ?. Hey, mr. asshole, what's your dirty hassle. Sitting in your castle, judging everyone. You're actin' like it's chill.
You came, you went. My mind it got a dent. I couldn't make my rent. Cos all my cash was lent. . This town is filled. With thousand-dollar-bills. Laminated songs.
I'm mixing business with leather. Christmas with heather. Freaks flock together. And make all the B boys scream. . All right. (All right). Turn it up now.
The last survivor of a boiled crown. Another casualty with the casual frown. The janitor vandals they bark in your face. Juveniles with the piles and paste.