Just another Midwest mobster, moppin floors with imposters... when you address me boy, straighten ya posture, beef never wait till tamarrah, I'm on ya stoop with the fire, you in the coupe wearin wires, there's no truce or retire, red and blues and top news off these dudes that he hired... hollows thru your attire, aimin for melons, losin yer mind, pursuin this grind, stupid fat lines thru aviator eyes, some say you made it I'm surprised...im not...in fact I'm much obliged, feel like I can touch the sky... kill you if you fuck wit mine, you and whoever you duck behind, you remind me of the sucka type, so my squad like manI fuck his life... this no game dude you suck at dice, crap out... capo got the strap out, this time lea da mask down