Grew up funk like Davis  now I got braids like Stevie Wonder
 Get my sag on  my momma get her dag on
 Freeze my khaki's up and I'm gone
 You can stare all day but just don't step
 on my Blue Suede shoes  to get here I pay dues
 BRRAOW BRAOW that's how my toolie sound
 when I'm drinkin Hen with my rhymes straight blowin in the wind
 And busters can't fade the Jayo Felony
 T-Funk from the family, smoke or dip with me
 Bullet Locc's dedicated, faded, I straight made it
 And drinkin Blue Note, on the yard they celebrated
 I'm a Y-C, I guess that's why the one-time is followin me
 But I'm a MC, I laugh because there swallowin me
 But I just shake my head and say "Damn!" (Ha ha)
 Cos I'm just goin to the sto', to get some zoom zoom zoom and wam wams

 Chorus:

 You go do your thang yo, and I'ma do my thang
 You go do your thang yo, and I'ma do my thang
 You go do your thang yo, and I'ma do my thang
 You go do your thang yo, and everythang gon' be everythang

 I wanna be like Donald Trump, not Willie Lump-Lump
 I put that on my set that I make everybody jump
 Fool don't move until my ride hit the flo', word!
 Boom booms in my rag '6-4
 That's how we roll, no time for the ying yang
 Dogs in my hood still bumpin fo' thangs
 It's me, the B-U-double L-E-T, better known as Felony
 T-shirt and khakis that's how we're bailin, C/see
 And I'm just tryin to keep my sanity
 Make some of them ends, get a biz and help my family
 Right, and just to let you know I don't care
 I'm still gon' get my sag on, there it is there
 You can't see me fool, I'm locced out
 Baseheads on the corner, bag and smoked out
 Askin for a gang of change and I say "Damn!"
 All this drama, to get some zoom zooms and wam wams

 Chorus (x2)

 French braids and Stockton cap wit my hat cocked back
 Now I'ma lean into the side like Goldie the Mack
 Everybody that's incarcerated, hold your head high
 Hope that you see another sunny blue sky
 Females'll leave you stranded and I'ma let you know
 She's made cos the Soul Glo won't make her hair grow
 Block on the phone, and ain't nobody home
 Her and some greasy fat fool rollin in the Brougham
 But you know how that go, so yo, toss em up high
 Cos in the South Beach streets it's do or die
 Wave em to the Eastside, yeah wave em to the West
 comin up with the bomb, no stress
 Guess and Master Jay makin funk tracks
 So to the ol' school, I'ma bring the punks back
 I listen to the flow and I just say "Damn!"
 As I'm rollin thru the hood, to get some zoom zooms and wam wams

 Chorus (x2