Royal

Royal Chilling in my hood Ice water in my cold cup just to keep my cup cold Babys all good Grey rag 'round my face, platinum switchblade clipped on my hip Gold gun on my fuc*** waist Crucify me on the street light hoe I'm a fuc*** psycho like a psychic with this motherfuckin' mic Blown up! Kill for the Seventh, die for gray F*** these bitches then I disappear and fade away The only way I'm stickin' 'round is for the petty cash Movin' fast, smokin' gawdy with a touch of hash Bust his ass If you comin' lookin' for the drama Up the llama, got more bottles than a baby mama Young Stevie Wonder with the thunder on my trigger finger I swear this ditch smell a dead body always linger Come get your issue, hoe