I move my chip and get it back
I got rodents back to blow my top off like a grad
I turn the music up the dry not all the sadness
We got every reason the crowd is what we have to be
Throw my chip up, throw my chip up like it's acid
I can't always count on my reflexes
I won't skirt in everything but a lax is big
Back as Mercedes look like a receptionist
Never crash at me on my top gear
Money making on my motherfucking problems disappear
Crazy white bitch we turn it bitch to being spears
Diamonds real pure gotta remind you when they hear it
All my niggas came up head bank and never feared yet
Told Granny I'm a hustler my dear yet
Pay the judge way more than I pay the jeweler
Drop the sack off then I'm riding smoke of trees on a cruiser
I'm conclude the luxury snuggled up in the Gucci
Trying to know