Pressin' My Bunk

(La música de Harry Fraud) Scar tissue, what was left in the AR pistol Sunflower seeds everywhere, look like a shark bit you (grrt) Bob Vila with the tool, keep a power drill (it's a drill) I feel like Meechie, cookin' up in a pair of forms (free the guys) Gucci Adidas with the creatures, tryna bear the storm (227) Same lil' Moochie off of Belvidere and Warren (eastside) I drop a nickel, they gon' smack you by end of the week (DOA) Another dime, he ain't gon' get to live to see the morning (not at all) Niggas out here holdin' on by the skin of their teeth While I'm at the table hookin' up, settin' dinner for three All of these starships and rockets, feel like outer space (yeah) Foreigns double-parked all on your block, shit look out of place Before the clock struck noon, I ran up a bankie Twistin' up a sixty-two, wrist hella janky (skrrt, skrrt) Caught a flight on grand river, had to call Perky In the spig with my killers and we all scurry This new shit'll make your toes curl Brick of him and her, know we got the best of both worlds (yeah) Movie clip reels, ghetto Steven Spielberg (uh-huh) Curbside service, tell 'em, "Pull up to the self-serve" (pull up) Good dope sell itself on them trail ways (A1) Murder-for-hire, had to pick me up a skill tray Did what I had to do to get the bills paid (where we at?) Pressin' my bunk, daydreamin' 'bout the big stage This shit was all a blur It get so cold in the D, I went and bought a fur (too chilly) Highbridge to Vallejo, I got ghetto love For sellin' drugs, niggas made it do what it do Unless you talkin' codeine, don't do medicinal Nine zips on the scale, that's a two-fifty-two (a quarter brickie) Cash and carry, I can never do municipal (nah) Fresh up out that Boot Camp Clik, I'm the new Mystikal (stay dangerous) Still'll rape a nigga village like I came to pillage Still'll take a nigga face he don't pay his ticket (real killer) Hands-on with the bag, know I'm tray-pacific (hands-on) Exchangin' cash for goods and ancient artifacts (where we at?) Had a Chrome Heart attack, went into cardiac (Jack God) Sold him a fistful of beans, that's a party pack Don't get me started, drop a fifty on your starter cap (uh) Started with a sixty, now the bag big as Farmer Jack This new shit'll make your toes curl Brick of him and her, know we got the best of both worlds (yeah) Movie clip reels, ghetto Steven Spielberg (uh-huh) Curbside service, tell 'em, "Pull up to the self-serve" (pull up) Good dope sell itself on them trail ways (A1) Murder-for-hire, had to pick me up a skill tray Did what I had to do to get the bills paid (where we at?) Pressin' my bunk, daydreamin' 'bout the big stage