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Peace, Peace Yo, it's Westside Gunn Family Feel good tonight man, I'm here man I came a long way for this Street Entertainment man, F.N.I.C (What up!) Black Royalty man, Death Valley man C'mon man, nah mean, it's all year I'm on some '08 shit man (This that feel good, right here) Calico M110 A hundred rounds in it Rose gold jewels on Selling cracks every minute Big niggas out screaming out "two for 15!" Fishscales on the beam Better dope than Grand Street Watch dem niggas lean Got [?] for 32 on the scene Machine out the beam Flavor mocassins on 400 for the jeans My man got shot next to me Heard that shit sting Retaliate with the wings Hawks and Desert Eags Got Woolrich peacoats with pumps in the sleeves Pull up in yellow beamers like we fuckin' Latin Kings Shootouts in Dewey Park Left the Tech by the swing Pay fees and throw cocktails Heard your mom scream Got goons by each door You fuckers can't leave I let the gat sing, MAC ring I'm doing my thing thing 40 cal plus dope with no cut brought us more cream Rock the Polo sweats Techs staying up by the drawstrings scuffed My bathing apes hopping over gates nah mean Handling six-figure jig Desert Eagle twin The kid Sprinting from a Mandela bid, vanilla Benz Gucci lenses, Uzi vicious under Coogi trenches Sick as Pyrex in kitchens, well-invested riches Jewelry glisten listen product kicks delicious Cristian Diors, Colombian coke bitches 10K wrists and Bathing Ape slippers Quarter to 8 whippers cake clippers And hold TECs with pin triggers 15 a brick, hey yo 15's a lot I swear I seen him flip barefaced to lick shit, Invincible Rose gold down on my dick, you despicable Fast life the way we choose to live Gold fronts laced with the ruby bridge High school I wore Iceberg laced with the Snoopy wig Cops will chase us Razors with residue on it We in the majors tricolor Jacobs Yo, I'm too laced Versace got shot in his face Wait, plate got shake on it Fiends got great on it Raekwon-ers display warnings Shoot at the head honcho Salvatore Ferragamo's lucky if you make it till tomorrow Mclarens have em staring great Your shit band was mere vanity appearance You 12 to 8 I'm not sharing Ain't no money like money from heroin nigga nigga It's fucking Westside gat man, F.N.I.C (You already know) You nah mean, we on some '08 shit man Westside Gunn story man Nah mean You already fuckin' know Black Royalty Nah mean S. Grill killing the fuckin' tracks man Nah mean We fucking ahead of our time B Just fuckin' listen man Let that shit ride for a second man
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