Im a cool savage nicka, such a bastard nicka
not so dirty, seven thirty or the plastered nicka
just a nicka dat try to avoid a mash on nickas
head n bread iz my mission, countin cabbage nicka
relaxin on the isle chillin, tryin to stab at figgas
coz i remember '07 when i stabbed a nicka
now i give God the glory, tryin to bask in it nicka
yea i spit rhymes, dat aint my truest passion nicka
im into sippin fine wine, chiefin grass my nicka
homebody gittin out at night, smashin figgas
attractin ladies with my poise, no more 'toys' my nicka
im all grown up in my zone n still a noid azz nicka
the game deep, so i play myself, mastered me nicka
like a wav instrumental runnin backwards nicka
not the beef type or full of hype plastic nicka
just a fly spooky laugh when the drast gits illa, for rilla
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