Y O U N G... E

Uh, uh. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome, Welcome. Come and get in with me. Come on. Cons, sluts. Uh, Youngs. Bring the drums. Look. Call me Y, O-U-N-G. I used to be the underdog, but now you MV. My whole clique got the low while your Crew's empty. And you could be a lot of Things, but G, you ain't me. Call me T-E-F-L-O-N. I don't know about you, but we D-O-Ns. Niggas running out when we go in. All my hustlers hold weight, and my Gs hold Things. The highness is back, where my throne at? Where's my crown, where's my spliff, where my chrome At? Where's my drugs, where's my strip, where my Dough at? I may be drinking too much, But where my cognac? Where my homies, where my guns, where my honeys At? Where my money at? I'm backing that one slap. All day grinding in the long trap. It's been a long week, furthermore a long month. Loading up the barrels, we ain't on pumps. Loading up the 'matic, yeah, we come and dump. Told them we got bodies in the trunk. We got Drugs on the strip. I got thugs on the Pitch, and they're clutching their sticks. Furthermore, they're clutching their fists. Four-five on the way, give you a truck of That shit. Call me Y-O-U-N-G.