We gon' pull up with them sticks and hop out with them choppers Walking out the ten in blue Balenciagas I caught an opp, now I got blood on blue Balenciagas Up that forty, let that pistol sing a melody Fuck all of that talking, we can go to war Leave

Say goodbye, say goodbye to Hollywood Goodbye Hollywood Please don't cry for me When I'm gone for good I thought I had it all figured out I did I thought I was tough enough to stick it out with Kim But I wasn't tough enough to juggle two things at once I

Save yourself, save yourself I like to stick to walls Deserving conversations and lifting them when they fall I am a fire escape, my spine's made of iron My heart pumps that old red paint Save yourself, save yourself, yourself I see the seasons change

Big gun kick the hell out of you Big gun number one Riot on the radio Pictures on the TV Invader man take what he can Shootout on the silver screen Sticking 'em up and knocking 'em down Living out a fantasy

But they don't know what is what Swish, swish, bish They know what is what Another one in the basket (basket, woah, basket, woah) Can't touch this They just know what is what They just strut So keep calm, honey, I'ma stick around For more than a minute,

Run 'em through your hair And we can get to rockin' There you are and baby, here I am But I need something to do with my hands So maybe I should stick 'em in your pockets And I need something to do with my hands I need something to do with my hands Well

Ooooh that smell Can't you smell that smell The smell of death surrounds you Hey, you're a fool you Stick them needles in your arm Whiskey bottles, and brand new cars Oak tree you're in my way There's too much coke and too much smoke Look what's going on

Golden years, gold whop whop whop Come get up my baby Don't let me hear you say life's taking you nowhere, angel There's my baby, lost that's all Once I'm begging you save her little soul I'll stick with you baby for a thousand years Nothing's gonna

Well I don't really care what people say I don't really watch what dem waan to do Still I got to stick to my girls like glue And I mon nah play number two All I know the time it is gettin' dread Need a lot of trees up in my head Got a little damsel in my

The clock has ticked eleven and the place is clear Reality is kicking in and so is my beer I don't make excuses when it's all my fault If a heart is made of money he's cleaned out my vault I feel a little wounded and it isn't fair To sit inside a parlour