chillin with a bird, in my pocket word, swervin cuz I heard , why u smell like turd, my trap is a castle crib, in a trap wit a bag of jib, got rich from the mobs I did, yo bitch she be on my dick, Bustin Caine on a main lane Wayne go insane wit a brain on caine, all day wit the money I make, wit a pistol on my side an a blade my click we grippin whippin in the kitchen in a dope mission backin 36s 36 ozies killin them snitches an if you try then in dippin pistol on my side an I'm fuckin yo bitches, you look like shit split wit a bad bitch an she doin the dishes