Verse 1

It's Greg B man I'm back in the game
knocking rappers out the frame with immaculate aim

the smooth kid with the new kicks rolling with two chicks
with huge tits bumping my new shit I cruise with

only fine dimes all the time all the time puffin dimes
you know the kind I'm on my fucking grind

don't fuck with nines whether women or busting caps
don't fuck with gats 'cause this mother-fucker is busting raps

don't pack guns I stack funds and mack huns
you say you strapped son but you never ever pack one

I got two fists built like two bricks with two hits
crack your fucking ribs like toothpicks

my huge dick in your chick every night
I'm the kid that she like when I spit up on mic

because my shit's kind of tight might get me in fight
'cause these marks ain't hype all bark no bite it's like I'm

head and shoulders above the rest I puff the best
fucking green from the west that you'd love to get

having sex in the back of a Lex sipping' a Beck's
maybe giving dick to you ex incredible flex

still I gotta skip to the next
she the tight of chick that let you shit on her chest

consider the steps it takes to get this great
I set the pace mother-fuckers never winning the race

my shits tight x 4


Verse 2

time to celebrate game always elevate
getting hella baked taking honies out on hella dates

the smarter cat with the harder rap giving rappers heart attacks
to they cardiac where the party at ?

in my party hat roll around in a pontiac
Vancity mother-fucker yeah I put it on the map

sipping' cognac with some hoes you think are hard to mack
I hit it from the back where nothing but my Starter hat

one two three four, in the morning
when i leave the club after the show

got the blunts packed full of dro, limo packed full of hoes
your life is like a funeral mine is like the Superbowl

don't mean to sound conceited but you probably won't believe it
when I say that I'm a genius son I say it cause I mean it

got these women on my penis and these haters is the same
'cause they sitting on the bench while I'm playing in the game

son I'm strictly on my grizzy man i'm always making pay
got my money in the bank until the day I got it made

mother-fuckers gave me lemons so I made so lemonade
now I'm chilling like a felon eating melons in the shade

you can tell when I spit that I really is committed
yo my critics wanna dig it but they never would admit it

son I'm wicked fin to get it in this business I'm a pro
smooth kid in the fitted and I'm fin to let you know

my shit's tight