They call me Young Nip C-Note, Rose Clicquot
Talkin’ to my girl while your bitch give me deep throat
Shootin’ at the world, dog, ’cause life is just a free throw
Shoppin’ on rodeo in some dickies, that’s my steelo
Played out pussy, please don’t offer me, no
If sex was a weapon, she could not kill a mosquito
Little mama lost her grip, pastrami around her pee hole
Got too many miles, baby, that’s a repo
Shorty’s in denial, really tryna fuck with me though
I’m way out your league so please excuse my ego
Diamonds in my Cuban link, my Rolex presidential
Penthouses and beach homes, perrier and patron
Told you way before about this baller shit I be on
Young Nipsey Hussle ain’t some shit that you should sleep on
Rich before rap, had to let the streets go
Faith in my transition, I knew I’ll be back in beast mode
Catch a case, that’s the tradition, either that or six believe no
Still somehow I understood that I could make the seed grow
And that one day that tree will bear fruit to feed my people
That one day is upon us, grab your fork it’s time to eat, bro
Slauson Ave he’s so
Rapper, CEO
And if we’re all actors, I guess I’ll be Al Pacino
And it was all after when they thought I was finito
Not my Valentino, it’s what I got up my sleeve though
LAX to JFK then on our way to Heathrow
At the polo lounge in here sippin’ cappuccino
Spendin’ pounds, every purchase man this feeling has no equal
If you come from where I come from, it’s rare that you see folk
That did it like I did it but do it ‘cause we need more
Cuba Gooding Juniors kill ’em with that submarine flow
Like every man of honor had to conquer Rob De Niro
Like Ginger in Casino or that runway light in Heat
That shadow in the grass from when Vincent shot him off his feet
In other words, life is just a fight against your disbeliefs
That’s why I’m screamin’ I’m the greatest of all time like Young Ali
Play Mohammad to these false prophets in this industry
But I’m just me, catch me cruising solo in my 2-seat B-E-N-Z
Or at the Roosevelt with Rimpau smokin’ weed TMZ
Flashing lights like Kanye album number three, but I’m gon’ be
From R.S.C. ’til the day I D-I-E, so I crank my beat and hit the gas on ’em
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