Yo, Fabolous strive for digits, even connive to get it Niggas can't tell me nothin' dun, the 5 is kitted for Dead Presidents any cat alive can get it I walk around covered in ice like I survived a blizzard got enough chips to bribe you wit' it pay off security at clubs, get my guns and knives admitted I'm the type that gets tried and aquitted if my vibes ain't wit' it I pull the Four-Five and spit it then niggas run to the precinct and describe who did it come home and find the necks on their wives are slitted I got niggas on my side comitted to leave you and the driver splitted with your brain spilled inside your fitted Fabolous, the only way to I.D. him is in a Five BM puffin' sticky green 'till my eyes be slim operate with more chips than IBM fuck with me and make the news at Five PM.
If ya'll see me gettin' locked it gotta be drugs if ya'll see chrome on the truck it gotta be dubs if I'm givin' somethin' to haters it gotta be slugs if it's one thing it's gotta be it's gotta be thug no info, I'm I'm leakin' it gotta be blood If my earlobes are hangin', it gotta be studs if the bitch on her knees, it gotta be love if it's one thing it's gotta be, it's gotta be thug.
Niggas don't wanna play around, they see how calm I do things swarm in a blue range, armed with two flames Flex play my joints, drop bombs like Hussien catch a cataracts, glance at the charm and new chain I got coke in every part of Brooknam that you name niggas want it, when you wave firearms their views change end up havin' to move they Moms to Ukraine get ADT alarms and new names come in the club, under each arm is two dames buyin' bottles of Dom with my loose change niggas hate me now 'cause I catch the eyes of dimes flooded the hood with Tre's the size of dimes ride through the hood with chrome pokin' off the wheels I'm in the game tryin' to get broken off with Mils shove the gun in your mouth, have you chokin' off the steel niggas love the band, but the chicks open off the grill.
I'm ready to address the haters and underestimaters hop in the truck, ride up on ya'll like escalators hit ya chest up, leave you hooked to respirators bed ridden talkin' to investigators now these ladies will do anything just to date us 'cause we skate around on ice like escapaders dressed in Gators, in peace I'm restin' haters when police come for me, fly West to Vegas ridin' or dyin', niggas know I'm ridin' with iron smoke compartment in the dash that I'm hidin' the lye in my pockets is fat, ya'll accounts is on slim fast I'm Twenty, with Twenty's on a M-Class just gimmie head it won't sweat your hairdo out we ain't tryin' to hear you out we tryin' to air you out make ya'll run to the stores and clear Clue out 'bout to put cameras in the truck, take the rearviews out What nigga....