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• Artiste: The Internet
• Titre: Lincoln
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I was rollin' through the ghetto In my Lincoln Continental Blowin' Kush smoke out the window What you think my windows tint for? It go drastic Measures in a tale so tragic Follow formula 64 as you trail my tracks Bitch, there's nothin' more pleasant than gettin' paid on point Pretty bitches with gold grills just to hold my joints I make 'em plead As the director says scene New words, don't say my name I just make 'em say king Four rings on that motherfuckin' wood grain wheel Raw, I'm Johnny Law, but you should check my appeal Once upon a time not too far back There was a young wolf pack That grew up in a lack Syd left King And Ace played Black Jack Bitches be talkin' shit That's how you end up smacked I'm after chips And if we eating then I'm after your bitch Ain't no cost, just pimpin' player You should be after the risk We winnin' like there ain't no other way to play the game All I hang around is zeros Figure my checks should look the same I was rollin' through the ghetto In my Lincoln Continental Blowin' Kush smoke out the window What you think my windows tint fo'?