Picture me posted on the corner, my pants saggin below my ass
With somethin weighin down my pocket, from people countin my cash
I'm a hop inside the drop and let the top down, and squat down
Then I make 'em pump they brakes like I'm a stop sign
Told you I rhyme gangsta, I got it locked down - Houston, Texas my home
My paint stay wetter then a bitch - on this nice selection of chrome
And if I ever choose to roam homey, I'm good where I go
Better ask yo'favorite ghetto star, how I get down on the low
My hustle fuh sho, when I'm gettin this dough
You better believe if I talk about it I got it to show
My neck and wrist enough to drop a hater jaw to the flo'
And don't worry bout the price it cost bitch I got money to blow
It's nothin to a boss!