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Editorials
(La Musica de Harry Fraud) Blood Orange Pellegrino match the
flame Buick Regal The
way I
play the
Vegas strip, you would think I'm Bugsy Siegel This the
rebirth of Max Julien, I'm far from a
Hooligan A
soft spoken gentlemen, who got a
few lady friends SL Mercedes Benz, that's just for the
weekends The
fruits of her labor, what she did for a
Mac then Electric blinds sliding down the
windows at the
Bel Air Room Service, Champagne bottles in the
hot tub Private suite, told her book that shit for another week Egyptian cotton pillow sheets, nothing but the
best for P
Funny thing is, a
nigga live right up the
street Close to the
Palisades, but I
can't give too much away They follow niggas home, and leave 'em soaking in they driveway That's why you'll never catch me hanging with a
bitch up at my own place Fuck a
stash in my ride, it's in my lap when I
slide, mane 'Cause nowadays, you gotta be the
first to squeeze your shit, gang Editorial, how the
story go? It was the
beat or me, I
can't be sorry fo' Moving on our road, like dice across the
globe On ice, yellow gold Millionaire, mellow flow Professional Camaro, pedal stepping on This the
'90, my other one a
'81 I'm seconds from the
top, where haters come Gunning for your spot, you gotta watch out, my nigga, and wait for them Sure as the
morning will bring us the
sun Them niggas hungry, and they want it But them niggas don't want to work for nothing But they lurk in the
shadows They wait until you look too comfortable, then they decide to attack you The
fact them niggas coming for you just look bad for you But you can't let no fuck shit happen too you
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