Who the * is this, paging me at 5.46 in the morning, crack of dawning, now I'm yawning, wipe the cold out my eye, see who's this paging me, and why, it's my nigga Pop from the barber shop, told me he was in the gambling spot, and heard the intricate plot, her niggas wanna stick me like flypaper paper, slow down love, please chill, drop the caper, remember them niggas from the hill up in Brownsville, that you rolled dice with, smoked blunts and got nice wit, yeah my nigga fame up in prospect, nah them my niggas, nah love wouldn't disrespect, I didn't say them, they school me to some niggas that you knew from back when, when you was clocking minor figures, nah they heard you blowing up like nitro, when they wanna stick the knife through your windpipe, slow, so thank fame for warning me, cause now I'm warning you, I got the Mac nigga, tell me what you gonna do, damn, niggas wanna stick me for my paper, damn, niggas wanna stick me for my paper, damn, niggas wanna stick me for my paper, damn, niggas wanna stick me for my paper, they heard about the Rolexes and the Lexus, with the Texas lights and whites out of state, they heard about the pounds you got down in Georgetown, and they heard you got half of Virginia locked down, they even heard about the crib you bought your mom's up, Florida, the fifth corridor, call the coroner, it's gonna be a lot of slow singing and flower bringing, if my burglar alarm starts ringing, what you think all the guns is for, all purpose war, got the Rockwellers by the door, and I feed them gunpowder, so they can devour, the criminals, tryna drop my decimals, damn, niggas wanna stick me for my cream, and it ain't a dream, things ain't always what it seem, it's the ones that smoke blunts with ya, see your picture, now they wanna *** their guns and come and get ya, bet your biggie won't slip, I got the calico with the black talons loaded in the clip, so I can rip through the ligaments, put the fuckers in the bad predicament, where all the foul niggas went, touch my cheta, feel my beretta, * what I'ma hit you with, you motherfuckers better duck, I bring pain, blood stains on what remains of his jacket, he had a gun, he should've packed it, cocked it, extra clips in my pocket, so I can reload and explode on your *, I * around and get hardcore, C4 to your door, no beef no more, nigga, feel the rough, scandalous, the more we smoke, I puff, the more dangerous, I don't give a * about you or your weak crew, what you gonna do when big papa comes for you, I'm not gunning, nigga, I bust my gun and hold on, I hear somebody coming Oh *, you got a red dot on your head too, oh *