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"Nigga, (yeah), nigga, you know I don't fuck with them niggas. Them niggas pussy. Sucka ass niggas. I don't like either one (I don't even like 'em). But the other night I'm in the gambling spot. Nigga come up in here - boom - hit the door. "Get the fuck on the floor, bitch, get down on the floor." I turn around like, "what?" Niggas like, "get down!" (When was this?) I'm like, "nigga, I got on white linen." Fuck it, I mean we gotta kill what we eat, right? It's not a problem, it's really not a problem. Southside Okay, the dope addin' up, the coke addin' up The smoke addin' up, my pockets are fattened up I got bitches in my bedroom, nerds on computers Diamonds 'round my neck, straps for my shooters I made it, look ma', I made it I grind so hard to get here I can't be faded I got lawyers on the line, five different kinds Five different crimes, same .45 Got a plan to turn to premise, see, a nigga ain't lyin' Cause they ain't gon' say I did it and I ain't gon' say I did it And I might go back and forth to court, better bet I get acquitted Can you dig it? Nigga, can you dig it? Shit changed, a nigga ain't broke I had a safe size as a shoe box, it felt like a vault Now I got real money, that "fuck how you feel" money That "nigga, you look at me wrong, get killed" money You gon' be part of my body bag ritual Hop out, hammer out to get at you You gon' be part of my body bag ritual .45 lettin' off some shit at you You gon' be put in a body bag You won't get a chance to fire back I peep my swag in the mirror, I think I got a crush on me I don't want no wack bitches touchin' me Tailor-made threads, satin sheets on my bed Get a bitch sea-sick, waves all on my head Diamonds in my ear, Baccarat chandelier Gabbana underwear, I'm so fly it ain't fair Every day a different dime piece Rose Gold, a different time piece Hublot, AP or rollie Your bitch and your jeweler know me, homie I'm bulletproof, go 'head, take a shot at me You be a dead nigga like the last one that got at me My shirt level three so I ain't got a vest on My heart like ice, my chest like teflon I'm a nightmare right here, just me and my knife, nigga Don't let me find out you ain't 'bout that life, nigga It's doomsday, I mean goon day I get the orders, like, "air out the room, Dre" You gon' be part of my body bag ritual Hop out, hammer out to get at you You gon' be part of my body bag ritual .45 lettin' off some shit at you You gon' be put in a body bag You won't get a chance to fire back The mileage had a shorty ass trippin' strippin' in my kitchen Push my thumb in her ass while I was strokin' her kitten I be in my own zone, still clutchin' the chrome Talk state of the art, [?] My passport need pages, I'm fuckin' round' out in London Jetlag from jets, wrist lit baguettes Trippin' in my charm, look bitch, I'm a don So shit go how I say it go, fuck if I'm right or wrong My paper long, bomb kush in the bong It feels like I'm dreamin' cause a nigga on I'm so far from a hammy down, I'm out in Miami now My bitch no speak no ingles, she fresh off the boat She give me neck, what you expect? I got connects for the dope I'm no joke, blow 30k on the coke, stuff ten in the coat Nigga, front, I'll have a hand full of dreadlocks Bitch, I hit your ass with a headshot You gon' be part of my body bag ritual Hop out, hammer out to get at you You gon' be part of my body bag ritual .45 lettin' off some shit at you You gon' be put in a body bag You won't get a chance to fire back "