I cant trust a soul, I ride wit tooly
I swear that its glued to me
Catch a fuck nigga run up tryna do me
Im a get to fucking shooting
I got a Glock, that bitch hot, 
Niggas really mad cause I done made it
And I get paper, they cant get nothin
Cross me, bitch, see you later
That nigga crossed me, he gon need God
Run up on 4-O-6 and heat they block
But they aint out there, we dont never see them
Bitch, my .45 wanna meet them
But Im rich, let me T them cause Im Td up off reefer
I still feel this flat, but I just pop two Xanax
This that Xanax music, this that flat music
This that go-and-get-your-gat music
This that get-it-cracking music
This for my white boys that be goin hard
Fucking thots like pornstars, smokin on that dope
We dont smoke that fuckin bubblegum, organic kind of cookies
Bitch, I dont want no pussy, I want top
Tommy thatll leave your , go by
Where the fuck he came from?
You know what my name was, my name is Almighty
And Im hard bout it, I aint scared of nobody
My gun dont fear nobody
Let her blow my gun, dont hear nobody or see nobody
But itd hear somebodys, shoot your ear off, buddy
Meet my little friend, his name is Tommy
I dont snort coke or do molly, I dont sniff dope
I do nothin but smoke trees
I just get high, get high til I damn die
Niggas hatin on me, I dont know why
But you know I got my .45
Tadoe got the .40, get up off a flat, Remy and Patrón though
And he at your door causing comotion
Knockin shit over and down, blowin down your tree
Blowin down your kitchen, blowin down your knees
And he blowin down your feet and your top
I bet do death hell not, where your pounds and your bars?
And your bricks? Where your bitch?
So I can fuck her and make her tell me shit?
Why? Cause I got dick, she suckin on this dick
Guess what? She lovin on this dick