This is the f**g resurrection
Get the f**k up n**s
The restoration of that real s**t
HS 87
I be posing for photos, eating at Sotto Sotto
Maxing .44s, bought that straps from the cholos
Packed in low lows, smell like Swisha packs and dodo
For sure sure, this that Austin Powers mojo flow
[?] never disrespect the bro code
You mofos couldn't get over my bars with a pole vault
I'll Titanic any rapper trying to show boat
Notorious, Big L, if I Pac this that ghost flow
We pass out licks, will pass my b**h before I will pass the dutch
Disrespect you see tecs, UPS might package you
Love a brown skin, thick, phat ass that bounce back at you
You n**s biting Count Dracula
We getting money we laugh at you
Now hold it
This the part where I finally woken
Drinking potion til I'm choking, Clarence Carter I be stroking
This that b**h I made in motion, your girl wanna f**k no joking
She told me she's home alone and tonight I'm Macaulay Culkin
We out here balling for no reason
So much money, white folks is calling us heathens
We giving meat to these women claiming they vegan
(We giving meat to these women claiming they vegan.)
Tis the season to be balling for no reason
F**k it Iâm not responsible
Tis the season to be balling for no reason
F**k you Iâm not responsible
Tis the season to be balling for no reason
F**k you Iâm not responsible
You hear that new strain gun powder
Shoot it up your veins and puff power
Fiends on that chemical X for enough hours
When that adrenalin Russian roulette surrounds you
C**k it, c**k it, when you had enough
And once you take it out the socket
Energy surge when you touch it, bring it, babe watch it
Turn up, little something, keep that boom box thumping
That bass, that loud, her system be jumping
I just hope the speaker ain't bomb bumping
She take my jewels and she blow like she drive something
It's a must that she know that I ain't nutting
I ain't nothing
Stereotype h**g the wall
Acne on her face be bumping and all
I be that loco in my 47 cholos
Please don't take no photos if it ain't of nosotros
Open up those Ojos, stop choking up that pork
Get your hustle on the floor
Hit the door
I got that good s**t for the low I let them know
So line them up, line them up, we 'bout to blow
Give me the snare and that kick
I need it the snare and that kick
I came to talk on my s**t
You hating, hop off my d**k
I'm MVP of this game
Same n**a, ain't s**t changed
So if you wasn't here when I was walking
Then b**h don't get on that plane
Here we go
You n**s can't be serious, come on fam
I got a list of n**s I'm ready to stunt on fam
Like I'm the little n**a that you used to front on man
You still work at the same spot from when I left on, damn
Okay, you can talk on your s**t, I'mma just make more hits
My team is winning by so much we'll make yours quit
Like I wear a size 5 n**a, I will never forfeit
Like size 5, 4, fit
Ah, n**a f**k that s**t
I step in fresher than two showers
You got dressed for like two hours
Your b**h like my girl
She came with me, you too sour
My n**s all real n**s
Your n**s are true cowards
I'm the king of the hill I don't need Hank, Bobby, or Boomhauer
To tell me that, don't want your s**t, don't sell me that
Cops on us, we selling crack
Every bar on every track, no holding back
Hit told me we got to bring the West back so I helped him
So ladies and gentlemen, California's finally back
You're welcome, Oktane
