Dead Man Walking

Buddha bless this beat

Yuh, ay, go, ay, ah, oh, go, skeet

Bitch

Where my motherfucking stack

Why them twenties in the front?

Why them hunnids in the back?

Show me what you got

Bring it back for some cash

I'm a self made prodigy, I look like a bag

I'm a fuckin', millionaire I mean it

I'ma put a bitch on Front Street if you don't believe it

Ask your motherfucking, friends I'ma do it

I'm that nigga with the, AK, I'ma shoot it

I got, bitches who in love like I'm Cupid

If a nigga cross me up, on my mother, boy he stupid, he a

Dead man, walking

Chalk, tape posin', Grand Am skrtin'

Bad bitch, big booty, and she twerkin'

Ain't no flockin', I'm in Stockholm, why you stalking

Twerkin' off a sidekick, like I'm Robin

Dick have her moaning 'til the neighbors come a knockin'

Only time a nigga sweat when a nigga joggin'

I can't take advice from someone who gotta clock in

That's a Fendi, got two Bentleys, white and green

One Ferrari, all red like Supreme

Your bitch, a meat lover for the team

Try to cross me out, do you know what that mean

You a dead man, walking

Chalk, tape posin', Grand Am skrtin'

Bad bitch, big booty, and she twerkin'

Ain't no flockin', I'm in Stockholm, why you stalking