Rollin down the freeway, wind in my hair
one hand on the wheel, middle finger in the air
No MC can handle me cuz i'm the best in my division
I can alter ones vision wit a quarter-inch inscision
Black-n-white silhouettes in ya visual spectrum
No more red-n-black roulette cuz u can't even bet sum
Ya bank account has been suspended for sendin them bad checks out
i got more money in my bank then Birdman's got in his mouth
Don't pretend to be gangsta when ya neva been shot
I'll have ya catchin more bullets then the legend TuPac
2 shots, not seven, is all I need to drop you
Matter-a-fact all i need is a water-gun to stop you
Wack rhyme scemes, no structure, got me so disgusted
Fake MC's; i'll cut em' more than Youngbuck did


thas it rite now....lemme know whatcha think

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