[Intro: Starlito]Aye Craig I ain’t going first next timePaper, Rock, ScissorsStep Brothers[Verse 1: Starlito]Last time I checked, I deposited itAnd the teller tell you that it's obvious, that I’m getting lots of itI’m bossed up, I swear it cost so muchThat's why it cost to even talk to us (yea)Make sure you get your offer upAnything I do, I do it all for of usGot a family that’s depending on meI’m gambling or I’m spending some of itAll my niggas stay into somethingGot a short fuse that extended on me[Verse 2: Don Trip]Still sleeping on us, you’re in a comaDon’t believe me, just wait a momentMy brain cells got paper on themThis 40 Glock got a laser on itGun you down, spray you upBalling out, not laying upThumbing through it, no paper cutsIf your money talk, it ain’t saying muchMy momma thinks that I’m a lost causeFully automatic, fuck a guard dogI rock G-Shock, no Audemar but I’m still flashy as a cop carIn that grass like a lawn dartStar, I got ya back like a lumbar[Verse 3: Starlito]Okay, pour a deuce, pop one barI’m gone but I ain’t going farMy driver need to be designatedShe give me brain, that's free educationThey pass me bills with no legislationGoing back to Cali, my weed medicatedThey keep asking me like everydayWassup with that Step BrothersThey either respect it or love itNow we do it for the check of itWoke up and said fuck itBout to open up my next budget[Verse 4: Don Trip]Now watch as our checks doubleA nigga got drive like a Lex bubbleFuck you, pay up no discussionRide through the city with a toaster ovenRob the game like it owe me somethingBruh, I’m going in keep the motor runningMy bitch blowing like Etta JamesIn my truck I got Mary JaneFeeling lucky no horseshoeBut I run this shit like Edgerrin JamesNeva changed, go figureMy brother faded like old picturesWe are not the same see the big difference isYou’re softer than a roll of tissueI know these rappers so frightenedCause we handle bars like bicycleI had to bring them so nice with itMy ink pen drip ice sickles[Verse 5: Starlito and Don trip]As soon as I finish rolling up this blunt, I’ll get right with youSo accurate with that heat, I feel like Mike MillerThe FN my lil light pistol shoot chopper bullets look like missilesThat's more money, more white bitches that follow order I’m high HitlerEastside Guerrilla I throw it up like a coin flipperMy money tall but I’m a short niggaGot so much game I need a sports tickerOf course nigga we killing this shitCall the mortician we still in this bitchAs real as it gets I been dealing with splits no divorce niggaGrind Hard no choice niggaI’m a underdog no forfeitingJust me her and no inhibitionShe catch more kids than an orphanage (ugh!)Live everyday like it's 420I’m disoriented like the orientalsHad the cookies in the plastic no fortune in it(Hold up, you recording nigga?)No chorus but it’s going on like 4 minutesFuck it, Trip go and end itBout my commas like a run on sentenceI know I’m a trip no pun intendedLife’s a bitch, you keep playing with itUntil me and death come pay a visitAnd my bullets are like jury dutyIn other words anyone can get itI slap your bitch with my magic stickThen treat that bitch like a sack of shitDry your eyes, It’s a crying shameBut I ball harder than catchers mittenI’m sitting fat your majestyI’m getting blowed like allergiesI grind hard no acid greaseI’m flipping pounds like balance beamsNotch!
