I got a one track mind
On this runaway train
And your runaway doggie
With that runaway brain
I’m a baller and a player and she’s all about the game
And I come to entertain
And she come after I came
Her name is Tatyana, or her name must be Christina
But when she get in to begging I turnt up like I’m Felicia
Her name is McRamon but she sure ain’t CRV
That’s the type of chick I see around but do hardly
Bitch, I’m up and I’m running as soon as you start me
Fresher than Chewbacca Shakka
White, tall, starched tee
My wolves bark like trees
Talk like G’s
Nigga talk like me
I’m just rapping on the beat
Consider that I’m an artist
I’m there looking like the labels and bitches, I go the hardest
They’re aiming at my wolves like they’re feeling going to target
And you ain’t gonna buy shit
I ain’t surprised
