Yo, Pi’erre, you wanna come out here?

Ugh, in New York like Biggie, ROC, plants on my sock
She runnin’ from the cock and when I shoot I blatttt!
Yeah, tell that thot her number blocked
Yeah, Stunna number blocked
This New Orleans milly rock, let ’em milly rock
Me and woe don’t really rock, evidently not, brrrr
Yuh, tell ’em it’s the ROC
In New York, let Jigga rock, I’m higher than my socks
I’m twisted like my locks, big up to the Lox
I did a show with Ja
Yo, Pierre, you wanna come out here?
Did a show with Ja, soon as I left the spot
Pulled over by the cops, them bitches found my Glock
They threw me in the box, eight months tops
Starin’ at the clock, commissary stopped
Man, when Carter 5 drop, a nigga jaw gon’ drop
The bitches’ drawers gon’ drop and then the calls gon’ drop
Hello? I ball too hard, they flop, whoa
And all of these bitches got ass, how did they get it so fast?
They ain’t have that in the past, I still smash
In L.A., they gettin’ shots, bitch I know the docs
M.I.A, we on a yacht, your bitch know where we dock

Hol’ up, I ain’t from the ‘Nolia, but Tunechi still a soldier
And rest in peace to Soulja, ’cause he was real Magnolia, yeah

And I fuck these hoes
If I don’t doze
Off on that drank
If I do, bitch, you to blame, coochie lame
Weed, stank, it better be the only thing
Big bank, take lil’ bank, you know the game
All these bitches want Young Carter, Young Carter
The fireman and firestarter, need water
Woo, all of your bitches, they poo
All of my bitches, they’re new
They got more bitches than you, all of these hoes in cahoots
But my bitch keep me in the loop
She blow me like hot Campbell’s soup
My woadies come out like a troop, innocent bystander, oops
Enjoying my financial fruits, I’m in a pineapple coupe
Passin’ you up like juke, turnin’ heads like a screw
Give that ho a tip, enough to buy a whip
Give that ho some sip, she fall asleep, I dip
I’m rich, bitch, Money, Mitch
What’s in that, bag?
14 bricks (You got 14 bricks in that bag?)
Used to, used to drive a Masi’
Used to be locked up, with the dude that stalked Ashanti
Used to be in Hollygrove with goons that caught them bodies
Tunechi got so many hoes, they call me John Thotty
Tell your bitch I’m Mr. Biggs, my nigga, Ron Isley
I’m kamikaze-in’ you niggas, Ronda Rousey
It’s New Orleans, Milly Rock, Trukfit to the socks
OVO Jordans, the ones that haven’t dropped, uh
Waitin’ for Carter 5 to drop, uh
It’s the, it’s the Roc, uh
Tell them bitches it’s the Roc, yeah, yeah
I’m throwin’ up the Roc, yeah

I ain’t from Magnolia, but Tunechi still a soldier
And rest in peace to Soulja, ’cause he was real Magnolia, yeah