With three full mags, gunmen inside the whorehouse
I don't know what they think, I think about making more zeros
Street code and jail lingo
My bro's doing months, I wait for him millionaire
I'm her devil and she turns diabolical
The Glizzies have switches, they're automatic
Cooks who never studied chemistry
Soon I'll cop a Rolex from América
Solid gold on my wrist and neck
That makes me look handsome
They don't understand that I don't envy them
Otherwise the dealers come straight off the plant
Kilos with the stamp, deals with the stamp
Solid gold on my wrist and neck
That makes me look handsome
They don't understand that I don't envy them
Otherwise the dealers come straight off the plant
Kilos with the stamp, deals with the stamp
Singer and I'm still with my crew in Peyo's tent
Five on my wrist and ten on my neck
Bro keeps blowing up the box office with the stamp
If they pass by La Monse, I smash them off the bridge
You're gonna stay inside Montebello
I head out to work with the drum
Three mags and patent leather kicks
I'm a Richard Mille, I keep going up in value
Medications, Percocet or Tramadol
Raining and I don't wet the mic while sending heat
Tell me, ITHAN, the glop isn't a Smith&
I toss all the mags, they empty and get dropped
One so he shuts up, with another they shred him
Like in Mexico, here they decapitate or chop them
Solid gold on my wrist and neck
That makes me look handsome
They don't understand that I don't envy them
Otherwise the dealers come straight off the plant
Kilos with the stamp, deals with the stamp
Solid gold on my wrist and neck
That makes me look handsome
They say that they're gonna kill me
We knock off the little boss of the camel
In the town case we slapped four stamps on it
This is from PR to Chile, you hear, motherf*cker?
I'm rolling with La Cone from the 47s, you know