Back from the connect with the whole 6-2.

Back from the connect with the whole 6-2. It came back 80, cut em big & wide Bruce Bruce. New coupe. Suade cover the roof, seats butter soft. Coasting down the I87 signal & cut you off>to get the paper. I got a team of niggas hungry>fiends line, bending the block like arenas for young money. Funny, got ‘em leaning and such. Behind the tint, watch with a grin, while I twist the trees in a Dutch. A nigga up, won’t be down till I rest in a gold casket. For now it’s big doe, dumb hoes and Moe asprin. Benze coup>a Rolls & my home, to stack cash in. >Velvet pouches of ice so when it rains, I can cash in. (LAUGH)…I ain’t tronna hear bear nadda… >I’m the type that a twist you like cheap, beer and vodk. I’m the type to kick you like in a game of socker. >Turn ya crib to a trap, my man’s a fuck ya baby momma. Yeah, keep it funky like baby lamas do. I already done, what you said was impossible. The way I act, the way I talk I know it bother you & causing me harm, then kind of thoughts ain’t even logical.