Smoking on that window
Is nice to begin though
So we outside sneaking out like we in though

Everybody watch me but out they call windows
Like in summertime !@$@s rocking the trench coat
All these !@$@s on the block

That's me and my Ken flow
Home got I locked from the States to Berlin hoe
And I like bumping trick rolling in my six flow

Yeah I bought it back like a $#&@ing car rental

They tell me find a job

But a !@$@ cannot survive of a 9 to 5
Selling nicks and dimes won't cut it
And now a !@$@ buzzing

So I'm looking for a budget
Cos your sister and your cousin
Hear and want to start cutting

Until I'm noting, trying to get to the top
I ain't even press a button
It's nothing, pack two duffel bags with cash

Gotta work out my muscles
Take them to the dealer so
I can leave with two muscle cars

Eating mussels in a bar
(*##$, I'm so bizarre
So far, then what you can fathom

I want to be living large
No $#&@ing strings attached
I do not play guitar

No more being lenient
I'm trying to raise the $#&@ing bar
With a couple bars

And chilling $#&@ing with a couple stars
!@^%s know that the flow
Is harder than dried tar

My God, played daily on many iPods
And $#&@ around !@$@s will
Get split in half like a pie chart

My !@$@s don't play no $#&@ing games homey
I'm driving persistent, listen
I got my own lane, homey

Ask them what they want
Tell them what we got
That $#&@ing flame homey

Your (*##$ running loose
You better get that ho tamed homey
Got no time for these impostors

I'm smoking ganja
Patiently waiting the pasta
For the munchies

I see why these other !@$@s is grumpy
Balling but their (*##$
$#&@ing with a rapper, Kris Humphries


Work day at a job, JOB
You need a job

Yo man don't think they heard you

Slow down P, ya killing them

Leaving them in the dirt from 11th Ave to 1st
Trying to make it to heaven
But still build up my worth

It's like I'm a drug dealer
Fiends looking for that work
Sex, money, and drugs

The root of evil but
It's what gets honeys to love
Till they bless money above

I'm sunning these !@$@s like
I got a tummy to rub
God bless my unborn

He'd probably grow up to be a thug
If I kept him in the hood %#@!
When he turns 16

He should be living good
Riding around without a hood
I never been trash or a drag
No Michael Clarke
Only time I go back on my words

Is when I recycle bars !@$@
%#@! I've been rapping for a minute now
So I know we about to make it
Tell my homies simmer down
I know it's been a while

Searching for that spinach now
Gunning for the summer
So I'm lamping in the winter how
Many !@$@s you know rapping now
How many of them biting

Off another rappers style
How many of them really
Gonna make it rapping, now
These fake Gs rapping
Red like they're kappa's, wow

$#&@ out of here, you !@$@s phony
Don't deserve the spot you own
All my !@$@s died from holding the grip
Rest in peace my !@$@ Allen
Just a young !@$@ wilding
Till the pigs took him down %#@!


And these !@$@s wanna know why I don't wanna work 9 to 5?