P MR. No Limit Records Cause we selling shit out the walls My nigga Silkk Ya'll gonna call him MR. Silkk the Shocker After this mother fucking shit Ya
Pockets of Gs, left the hood, phattest cribs To platinum from silver, came back, bitches calling me the black Liz Taylor Imagine that, Rob me? My nigga would kill ya
deep throat to lay with me I reminisce how I miss a stare in this space Resort to the lips of a stripper, sprayin' their face Lampin' in a mansion, home
Got a rock, rocket in my pocket For to knock ya head right out the socket Turn teardrops to smile, been glanced this spare child Spra ya gallon of mace in your face
thats not mine. And kill me It kills me Its digusting cause i got a few g's They try to rob me But they know they wont touch me Smile in your face and
watch your back man 'Cause your friends out to get you for your shit This is to all these niggas crossin' us here Smile in your motherfuckin' face Turn
you? Not at all Before I squeeze? Smile at y'all Leave you bleedin, down the hall Your moms got, the dreaded call Who shot ya, what the deal yo That hot