52 carat blue diamond
Rhymin`, interior designin`, grindin`
You can shake cheddar like me on the mic
Hit your point, hold your money when you`re rollin` the dice, baby
Uhh.. either you go crash-and-burn
Or wake up in the morning with cash to earn, tiga
Check it homie get good with me
If just I can find your hood again
Who is that in the car? yo couldn`t be
All the way out here, yeah Nicki t
Russian, get the weed sparked
Get the party started
And watch yo back fo the shark
Nigga cold-hearted
We got bakin soda
All the way down in minnesota
We got bakin soda
Down in minnesota
I got a fetish for Adidas, boss
But I betcha don`t know what my Fila`s cost, do ya
On chew, like dem baby pit bulls
And ain`t no way you can touch my....cool
The 12th floor at the Marriot
You know, me and my tigaz chill there a lot
Fetti
I sit alone when the mic`s on
With Tyson every time that the fight`s on, kill `em
I remember rhymes used to ride with nets
Flight at the midnight high with jets
You know Al Capone stretched tryi` to save the sets
And I`m teflon down, t shirts and gats
Rhymes you can taste, Rhymes, Rhymes galore
Rhymes you can buy at the candy store
You know who I am, I`m like credit card scam
Hot like tofu, greens and yams
Extra-curricula, netting that riddicula
Hit the cloud like the bear or the fiddila
Shouldn`ve lied, I coulda been a good friend to ya
Now I got to get rid of ya
We got bakin soda
All the way down in minnesota
We got bakin soda
Down in minnesota
I told my mom somethin` that made her cry
Looked her in the eye and said rappers don`t die
We not gonna have an` tour, but we gon get by
So most of us gonna be in hell high, kickin`
Now put the rhyme on a triple beam
Now rock it up, and chop it up
And try to grind into triple cream
Don`t get caught with the same scheme
Meaning don`t get caught with the same thing, King
It`s like you got to be bald
Cuz hoes and niggaz wanna see you go far
I think they mad when I ticks them off
But I`m a hyena so I got to laugh and break some off
The hot wax that`s real fatal
Sup`d up to perfection like a weapon on a turntable
They say Gretta`s got a new baretta
And he`ll be aiming his gat like a crooked letter, foreva
I hit the night like stormy weather
And if you brag about your freak, i`mma say mine`s way better
I rotate like the hands of a clock
And find ways to make my rap beat all on your block
You better knock on the door tiga
And lay them all on the floor tiga
Cuz I think they want more tiga
I blow `em out like a flat tire
And hit the weed for Richard Pryor
Then call `em all straight liars
The corks in me like the tail of a fox
So get the grease hot, nigga
Or your tigaz`ll be caught
