Pot of Gold lyrics

[Verse 1: Evidence]
Uh, why you holding grudges
[?] screaming to impress the judges
Save your image in public
Behind the scene you getting reprimanded
You was the most up-and-coming, nothing's coming of it
That I don't covet
Rather play the master than the puppet
[?] life I put the bun up in the oven
And walk away from love like David Ruffin
Back again like [?] walking on the helicopter padding
And no work if we ain't taking budgets
Tough crowd but I'm cut from it
Can't stand you but there's nothing that I can't stomach
I'm a brand that you can't trust it's tough loving
Get used to me, how I used to be, but got enough coming
I change the attitude, LA from the beach to the avenues
Gradual became all of a sudden
All of them fronting the future in it
The rules infinite, the one who never knew no limits

[Verse 2: Boldy James]
A n*gga touch my brother Ev, imma bust his head
Heard him talking choppy on the net, [?]
When n*ggas seen us in public it was nothing said
[?] in his kit looking like an undercover fed
These laws brag, god bless my little brother Ced
Still on the [?] and that 500 running red
Lining up all these pops caught a hunnid heads
Made 20 thousand off top, that's a butter spread
Then get the baking man dropped how much I love the bread
You know my youngin caught a opp, you seen him cut his dreads
Blew 80 bands on the watch, I got it from the [?]
Told her see if she can make me pop cause I don't come from here
Bragging to her homegirls, calling it another leg
Friends jumped out the shower, your b*tch begging me to come to bed
Told me how she always had dreams of f*cking celebs
But I was thinking sh*t her homegirl come instead
[Verse 3: The Alchemist]
Serve the custies, armpits musty
Dirt under my fingernail my shirt is dusty
Your face will be leaking out blood and pus
I draw on it with a razor when it's rusty
Bird shrubbery leave my chain very nuggety
I'm merging in your lane very subtley
Why you cooking the filet till it's rubbery
I only sip the chardonnay when it's bubbly
Uh, muchacho malo, let's celebrate your death day and pop a bottle
[?], might put a hex on you with a chicken like Papa Shango
Big chain, skeleton bones dangling while I'm mingling
Now let's watch a flick by John Singleton (Rest in peace)

[Verse 4: Stove God Cooks]
Uh
They shoulda [?] a platinum in a pot of gold
They lied and said the king of rock was gone
I ain't died I'm still here in all my glory dancing on the stove
Mink coat in all my gold I raise the price on my soul
You can't afford the kind of excellence I'm p*ssing, I'm different
Plastic on the floor I just got done ripping [?]
My bank account singing like Minnie Ripperton
All high notes, is you listening?
You f*ck me once b*tch, you was just auditioning
Sprinkle holy water on the brick, we had a kilo Christmas
I'm really fishing with the wrist, we was running through like a brick a hour
Supreme duffel bag at the ticket counter
You broke bum n*ggas ain't worth a bullet, my shooter hit the n*ggas 'round em
And make 'em live through it
You just talking the sh*t I been doing
I had the 550 Benz moving when Olajuwon was still in Houston
Buy every one of 'em, I might as well
I was praying for direction and the signs fell
Caught me three days later said the white was funny
I said you trippin, I never seen a episode of Seinfeld
That sh*t ain't diss, them n*ggas minimal
I heard the album, typical
b*tch my wrist is gold, I'm Ibaka on the pick-and-roll
I make sure the bricks step in, I push the envelope