The Ides Of March (Starlito)

First thing’s first, shut your bitch ass up Anythang goes, shoot your bitch ass up Bet you won’t get back up, and so your shit bag up Call that shit bad luck, yeah Driving race cars, smoking out the jar, fucking bad broads Aaah, but what I’m gonna do tomorrow I got my own nigga, yeah you can boss Let my youngin a couple hunned And I bet he shoot your car up And send some money order to the pen and pay my lawyer No matter how much money you get You ain’t shit if you ain’t loyal Got a bag and it’s purple, that’s why I’m crown royal You got 4 hunned dollars and I got an ounce for you You got 44 hunneds and I got a pound for you Got a 44 may and I fire rounds for you Fuck around and get found drown I’m good on any side, bitch I live down town Who’s bright idea was it to let me get some money Her forehead on my belt, give me head till she belch Nothing but permium, unledded in the tank And when you seen me, I was headed to the bank Whatchu thank, prolly smelling like dank Tryina quit sippin drank, but a nigga just can’t All I ever wanted was a shippin with that brang Watch how you talk to me, by the time I feel threatened you see the flame Now my ledgers got larger numbers I started out on the humble Beggin the governor for a pardon Read the charges and my heard crumble Nightmares like every other night, got me speeding through red lights I know jammin like an iPod, shooting dice on them bars Fuck the rhymes, forgot my iPod Hot to the point, like what’s the point Can’t get no higher, Can’t get flier, man cost like 10 bands To put me on the flier I go ham, hoe go ask my uncle samuel I’m no liar, all these stacks I made, my tax is paid Still I slap you in your face like after shave Thank cause we ballin, we won’t mask up This a masquerade All these bands and I’m off for march Thought I was at a parade Tranch bad guys, roaches rap on behalf of my plate I swear that them young niggas been getting it Since way back in the day I ain’t concerned with catching feelings Scared catching a case.