[Mr. J]

Stand back & watch how all of these bodies pile up.
See what my style does to the women when Im riding up.
looking high as fuck but still styling with haters behind us.
undercover eyeing us knowing thats when the fire comes.
best friends wired up tryna crack through the G code.
better tell your amigos we packing up here on the East coast.
better tell these jokes they aint trying us whenever we roll.
put money on them snake eyes, make bank off these hoes.
told you thats how we roll. gotta name to make ya heartbreak.
learning this the hard way, ya classics are beat thinking Kanye.
thinking what your job pay when you handing out sauce bae.
act up and the shots spray making it look like an off day.
no matter what the job pays, bury competition under telltale
let that beat tell tales, the flow so sick I can make a shell sail.
call me cool J, hand you the L L & pray that homey felt well.
give em that Moby Dick & ask them again if they felt whale.
better off in the NFL with these overflated simulations.
debated invitations with mixed arrangements, amidst the anguish
the pissed & dangerous that sit and stare at lyrics trying to get the language...
I sit in vacant tiers while shedding vagrant tears over a stainless...
bottomless can that could change into a positive chance.
but like all else I lost the advance & took it back to awesome plans
ostrich lands & doctorate hands upon where the martians land.
get behind the car, sorry I had to exhaust ya chance to pass...