Everything Allocated E

Damn. I didn't know you had a baby, man. Shout out To Numbers. I'm back at it once again, Niggas thought it was a myth. I got pillows in the back of the machine Blowing piff. Pay cash for the bill, Yeah, the conversation different. Copping that cess thinkin' ahead for the children. Feds hit the block and it ain't never been The same. Whoever woulda thought that I'd get rich From the shit that I learned in the game, Man, I fought for this shit. Man, it cost for this shit, everything allocated. Look, my money too long to just be worried 'bout a nigga. S cargo might do Paris for the winter. Invest a couple million, pull up limited edition. I ain't even gotta talk about it, house with A loft inside it. Another opportunity, My life so beautiful. My stock keep accumulating, you can't lil' bro me. I'm too smooth, stuck thinking Maybachs with no Roof. Or Ruff bars gray with the stock shoes. I'm parked at another spot, spark then I'm heading Out. My conversation light unless you talking 'bout Breading out. COD, bring 'em out, Make sure it's wrapped well. Very little clientele, but everything so consistent. Everything so efficient, niggas know my numbers big. So even though my clientele small, touch a mil' Quick. Did all with no assists, I calculate in My sleep. I'm Malcolm X with the heat, Whole different pedigree. I got a smoke room in your bitch crib You never been in. A couch you never sat on, you not allowed Up in there. You can't hang with the grown-ups, You chilling out with the big kids. The ones who think they like us, but really Nowhere near zde. These niggas acting weird zde, All out there near zde. My ex wish she was still here, she reminiscing In tears. My Benz windows is clear, You see me chilling in there. I'm lounging on a beach chair somewhere where you Would be scared. I'm rolling in a brown Rolls, Nigga, Coco beware. Chocolate eclair, pre-rolls is prepared. Park Yogi Bear picnic basket, vintage classic. Bentleys passing, security gate to and fro the Mansion. I'm having marriage on albums, Madmen, they spazzing. Water under the bridge, another million for the Kids. Fools never could do what I did, My whole crew got coupes with kits. AMGs, Brabus S's, hella keys, but not to sniff. You push a button, the roof lift. I left it running front this bitch, Eastside. Ooh, he sick. What's up, man? What's happening tonight? You get older, I almost don't recognize you anymore. Last time I saw you, you told me that You were, uh, gonna go to Louisiana. What happened?