mix mix i mix that shit pass it to a chick let her take that trip nascar whip wit a fast slap stick the odder make'em sick but hey i aint perfect i been working all summer putting up numbers all the blicks be equipped just for the runners the tires be all rubber they peal like butter im a fighter and a hustler but never a lover prosecutin ass probably a judger we approach yo ass fast you probably studder the street made me tuffer i cant complain i was knee deep im the dirt stuck out in the rain how could a nigga drive me im in a whole nother lane it could never be the same bitches said you a stang a bunch of new niggas came and u tapped outta the game before you ask for smoke you gonna see that flame everything in the bag rings earings & chain robb your ass in Houston let kirko bang