I’m a New Orleans gangster, after the storm
Boy it took ’bout three million to rebuild my home
But I’m back on defense, back in the zone
I eat rappers and go in my yard and bury their bones
My pockets on Raven Symone
That’s fat! What you know ’bout that, huh!?
See I’m ‘a keep it going, keep it moving, we can do it, I ain’t tripping
So far ahead of them niggas we got a time difference
Don’t confuse me with them, I’m different
Trying to holler at TIP for a movie audition, shit
I push that Maserati to the limit
Zig-zagging through that traffic like Emmitt
I tell them niggas, “Hurry and buy!”
And if you dry-snitch, you’ll get buried alive
Yeah, and I don’t chase ’em like you do
I keep a bad bitch skating like New-New