Lyrics
Now it’s just me, my nigga Mikey D, getting throwed
We was bangin' out some Masta P, on the road
I prefer my word with platinum teeth, maybe gold
They don’t like it when you come direct, well fuck, but Spottie bold
Tell them hoes they better come correct, cause I fuck
My momma told me we no 'ceptin' any memberships, no adding losses
I won’t step up in your dealership until I’m flossin'
We no flexy with the funk, add a blessing to that punk
Damn, I got a son he on the way, but that’s my baby
I’ve been spittin' like it’s crack or some, like since the 80's
I was born I think in '91, that mean I’m chosen
When I slide back through your hood, bitch, just have a frozen, bitch
Yeah, Goddamn, feel like I’m Brad Jordan
Goddamn, I’m in, feel like I’m Brad Jordan
Scarface somethin', like I’m Brad Jordan
Feel like I’m the fuckin', feel like I’m Brad Jordan
Two dopeboys in a busted-ass rental
In Houston, OPM on them pussy ass niggas
Feel like I’m Brad Jordan
Now you would think I work from South Park, grindin', always makin' trouble
Grippin', on another level, mothafucka
I feel like droppin' classics, like the rucker
And rappers be too passive
It’s just me, my brother Spottie, bitch, sit low
I’ve been drinkin' since my momma called, around 4
Niggas asking me too many questions, fuckin' throwed
Ride Da Vinci, Mike, December we was losing, now we winnin'
Can I sport a couple in this, play for bucks that Brandon Jennings
Wear your crown and your pocket, or that shit’ll come up missin'
You that nigga but the misses, eat a dick and mind ya business
This for all my Eastside niggas who be eating, do no sleeping
For their seedlin', never go to parties even if it is the weekend
Shout-out to the women who be faithful to their pimpin'
And shout-out to them haters who be all up in their feelins
And shout-out to my daddy, I’mma buy your ass a Bentley
A bunch of bustas
I’m on everybody’s asses, and this the notice
And I ain’t even tryin', ho, did you notice?
And this the standard, fuckin' bogus
You fuckin' rappers