Royal
Chilling in my hood
Ice water in my cold cup just to keep my cup cold
Babys all good
Grey rag 'round my face, platinum switchblade clipped on my hip
Gold gun on my fucking waist
Crucify me on the street light hoe
I'm a fucking psycho like a psychic with this motherfuckin' mic
Blown up!
Kill for the Seventh, die for gray
F*** these bitches then I disappear and fade away
The only way I'm stickin' 'round is for the petty cash
Movin' fast, smokin' gawdy with a touch of hash
Bust his ass
If you comin' lookin' for the drama
Up the llama, got more bottles than a baby mama
Young Stevie Wonder with the thunder on my trigger finger
I swear this ditch smell a dead body always linger
Come get your issue, hoe
