What's up my n*ggas, yeah we on it
Big clouds of smoke of that chronic
Sounds bang bionic
Murder the bass line but I love it
How ironic, the world changed on me
Baggy jeans became tight and saggy
Maggie popping that molly, nah son I smoke blunts
Pop shrooms, put that girl on the table, celebrate with the crew
This that trill sh*t, not that type of beat where the high hat kills it
There's a difference, New York I live it
Any thing else is what I call considered different
Plex handle was BI, let me flight high in the sky
Like an eagle, eyes on the prize so f*ck your ego
I mean these little kids grabbing the mic
I don't even know what they saying
I just don't listen so f*ck it
I'm not here to battle rap these n*ggas
So f*ck them, but I'm not here starving either
Ether is what they claim to spit, so then spit
Cuz your cars and jewels don't mean sh*t
Peep the game out, get signed to a label then take three years to push an album out
That sh*t don't work for me
Like how Mr. C is getting head from a tranny
Man what's going on these days
Is it worth it to bring the mic towards your face
Yeah son we keep it moving
Facebook it, hashtag that sh*t
You still doing it b*tch