Buckingham Palace

Bonecrusher, I'm like the hood's top celebrity

Long dick your chick like my raps longevity

Coca in a glass of ice cubes

I got 'em all in bad moods stomping on shoes, I never lose

I don't give a fuck about how you're feeling

Got the roof on fire, legs to the ceiling

Sexual healing, lethal that Marvin Gaye shit

Got two black burners that'll melt your facelift

Memory foam muffle the sound of the gun blast

My clan bring heat like the summer, check the forecast

We kamikazes, microphone aeronautics

We bounce on promoters like West Coast hydraulics

Narcotics, we keep a stash in the gun box

Right near the mask and the wig of the fake dreadlocks

Bumbaclot, box of ammo in the pocket

It's all fun and games 'til your eyes hanging out your sockets

Watch how you're talking to my goons, it's guerillas

Shooters, ruthless, all types of killers

Hunger Games shit, they fighting for block space

Box cutters, Gemstars, I'll ox your face

Ayo, I got a problem with authority

Lawyers handle problems accordingly

They acting like the pops wasn't calling me

I gotta make sure my corner eat

Over the stove, pot lean to the side like I'm pouring tea

Black man in a foreign V, emblem on the door and seats

Either you a hustler or a thief

All I needed was a quarter ki

In the corner, me and my dog regulated like Warren G

Sold it hot but I bought it cheap

Got it from Miami back to PA like Ross and Meek

Huh, buy your bitch for a week

She hold my guns and bricks, I give her dick for a storage fee

You talk slick but can't afford to beef

And we don't call it beef until I'm

Sending hits where your daughters be

Step on work with foreign sneaks

Everything foreign so my bitch look like Kimora Lee

Yeah, bandana tied around the nozzle, pop pop

The nozzle is the nostril of the rostral, pop pop

Possibly I'm coming across as hostile

You can be double crossed by your

Apostle, that's the Pentecostal gospel

Black COB flag hanging out the left side

Blowing in the atmosphere, the atlas here is Westside

Ran up in his stash spot when I heard my connect died

His wife is Colombian, got Colombian neck ties

I went from roaches in the cereal

To flowing the most ferocious in your stereo

But culture vultures don't hear me though

Hotter than diseases that overdose the venereal

While bitches at it with a burning bush like the Moses miracle

Why the fuck would I touch a thot with some gonorrhea?

I give her the hammer, I call it a blammer, that's onomatopoeia

Go look it up, you don't read books enough

That's why Crook is up in your mamma mia, I'm a G nigga