I been problem since the old days tims and gold caps
Now im in oj simpson throwbacks
You all was wonderin where my xxx been
Probally vacatin in south beach gettin head like xxx
Breathin through gas i can let the tech pound ur ego
Lock you in the closet with the westnile mosquito
The press crowd the people espicially celebritys heavily shittin any tom dick or gregory
Nigga you better be strappin
They want you dead if you rappin
Iam tryin to cave your head in you backin
Iam gettin bread and relaxin
And attractin the fan base of females and emails and letters to fax in
In vegas with a toaster n a blunt
And the hotel i checked in got a roller coaster in the front
Hollerin poster when i stunt the sammy sosa of the month
Better yet the whole seas and nigga iam still breathin even though my dollars are green
I rap for the kids that's to poor to waste eggs on halloween
Iam gettin swallow clean
My habits are good collectin all the carrots i could
Slidin from the stash box to conceal extortion
And a good silencer to make it sound like the wheel of fortune
All this careless talkin cause im travelin and flossin
Havin a good time and u havin a abortion
You sucker for love gettin married and divorced than
You can't even afford the batteries 4 ur walkman
Man im out the hood burnin cali weed on slauson when set trip can turn to tragedys and coffins
I mean what im sayin you schemin iam sprayin ur team isn't playin
On the sofa screamin and and prayin sayin
Gunit niggas be rollin crazy holdin 80s older ladies starin cause they starin at he gold mercedes
Since 50 hooked up with shady
Now they tryin to brook up to pay me
If u think iam shook up u crazy baby
The boy strapped two ninas
Smokin out a bag big enough to fit in vaccum cleaners
I wear a glove when i blaze a fatty
I aint ur baby daddy u flippin
Now he tryin to grab me out that navy caddie i aint ur avy
Poppa was a rollin stone
Stockin up the hona home
Pocket full of loaded chrome
Drop n get a hold a dome
I know ur motive homes
U mad cause im xxxxxx half ur motorolla phone
Im swift with the wemon im good wit my words alota
Niggas is hatin on what i deserve im hotta
Front if u want end up on the curb in ur prada
And ur mans runnin ambulance come
Another day another dollar on the low from the impala
I can have a six some in my shower mother fucka!
Send "Banks Workout Ii" Ringtone to your Cell 
Now im in oj simpson throwbacks
You all was wonderin where my xxx been
Probally vacatin in south beach gettin head like xxx
Breathin through gas i can let the tech pound ur ego
Lock you in the closet with the westnile mosquito
The press crowd the people espicially celebritys heavily shittin any tom dick or gregory
Nigga you better be strappin
They want you dead if you rappin
Iam tryin to cave your head in you backin
Iam gettin bread and relaxin
And attractin the fan base of females and emails and letters to fax in
In vegas with a toaster n a blunt
And the hotel i checked in got a roller coaster in the front
Hollerin poster when i stunt the sammy sosa of the month
Better yet the whole seas and nigga iam still breathin even though my dollars are green
I rap for the kids that's to poor to waste eggs on halloween
Iam gettin swallow clean
My habits are good collectin all the carrots i could
Slidin from the stash box to conceal extortion
And a good silencer to make it sound like the wheel of fortune
All this careless talkin cause im travelin and flossin
Havin a good time and u havin a abortion
You sucker for love gettin married and divorced than
You can't even afford the batteries 4 ur walkman
Man im out the hood burnin cali weed on slauson when set trip can turn to tragedys and coffins
I mean what im sayin you schemin iam sprayin ur team isn't playin
On the sofa screamin and and prayin sayin
Gunit niggas be rollin crazy holdin 80s older ladies starin cause they starin at he gold mercedes
Since 50 hooked up with shady
Now they tryin to brook up to pay me
If u think iam shook up u crazy baby
The boy strapped two ninas
Smokin out a bag big enough to fit in vaccum cleaners
I wear a glove when i blaze a fatty
I aint ur baby daddy u flippin
Now he tryin to grab me out that navy caddie i aint ur avy
Poppa was a rollin stone
Stockin up the hona home
Pocket full of loaded chrome
Drop n get a hold a dome
I know ur motive homes
U mad cause im xxxxxx half ur motorolla phone
Im swift with the wemon im good wit my words alota
Niggas is hatin on what i deserve im hotta
Front if u want end up on the curb in ur prada
And ur mans runnin ambulance come
Another day another dollar on the low from the impala
I can have a six some in my shower mother fucka!
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