Chorus: C Bo
 All I ever wanted was a pair of Nikes
 A Lexus  a mansion and eternal life
 Maybe what it was  I was askin for too much
 Prayin to God  thinkin 'did he give a fuck?'
 Twelve years old  I was always told
 Every day I want it  that glitter ain't gold
 But fuck that shit  I want a twelve inch dick
 A Coupe  a chrome  and a money makin bitch
 Verse 1: C Bo
 A 'Lac  front, back, man, I wish I had it
 In a brim, Rolex down wit a automatic
 I be the shit, pimpin hoes from Cali to Louisville
 Strip em for money in Magic City and the A-T-L
 Cos see these bitches ain't shit but investments
 And they ain't worth shit unless they makin profit
 I need a money-makin bitch to satisfy my needs
 Some pussy, dough, diamonds and G's
 So when I swoop in my coupe, out to get my loot
 Collect it from hookers more famous than Betty Boo
 It be that, legalised pimpin that's keepin me above the water
 Fuck a bitch, get rich and live the life of a baller
 Cos a broke bitch ain't nuttin but a downfall
 Unless she cement her money and her mind, y'all
 And wit straight-laced game is how ya take control
 I been practisin the shit since twelve years old
 Chorus
 Verse 2: Lunasicc
 One foot in the grave and eleven inches insane
 Psychotic nigga named Lunasicc, squattin out them gold thangs
 Slappin these bitches, y'all can't be laggin on the payroll
 Let's get your ass right back to the track before your face get steezo
 I'm cold like the winter, get up in your flesh like a splinter
 I dash with the cash then mash on the gas, prepare a hog for dinner
 Creepin when I'm sleepin, my bitch ya want coasted
 by the window, wit an AK ready for niggas wit their gunplay
 Cap peelers, drug dealers, I thought you knew
 that if you fuck wit one of my niggas then you're fuckin wit the crew
 We roll deep like sheep, always strapped wit some heat
 Original gangsta, fuck a prankster, ride my nuts like a beat, huh
 I'm bout it, bout it, but niggas like you, I doubt it, doubt it
 I come thru, drinkin blue lookin bout it, bout it
 Ready for the gunplay, move the crowd like we the O-Jays
 Blastin like I'm crazy out the Colt wit my .3-80, Mafioso
 Chorus
 Verse 3: 151
 Las Vegas, Lake Tahoe to Reno
 Bitches on the highest floors of the casinos
 Butt naked, checkin money by the G stack
 As I pose at the crap tables, sippin on yak
 I'm just a baller, wit a grip of money-makin hoes
 Might catch em fo'-deep in a C-Ville on triple golds
 Wit cell phones and pagers as if it's on a grind
 So to keep em an X-rated pussy is a goldmine
 I'm on a major mission to increase my stacks to the highest climax
 I'm wrapped up in my safe and G-pacts
 Crackin like green weed sacks, for slangin, for danglin
 youngstas wit their pants hangin, gangbangin, .45 stangin
 Ain't no tamin, aimin, accurate, we hit em off and slid em off
 They get off in the Valley, immaculately, sippin rally's
 Winners are stackin chips up like alleys
 From Seattle to Cali, the North of Valley, nigga
 Chorus
 Bitch