Come around the hood, see us eatin' good lookin' good Tell me what they mad for You should be on the radio, soundin' like I made a million dollars Tell me what they mad for Tell me what they mad for Girl tell me what they mad for Tell me what they mad for If you sellin' all the records and you fuckin' all the bitches And you sit atop of charts and you livin' out your wishes With your chains all smothered and your watches all glittered And your ghost and your phantoms all comin' home to visit With your baby mama fucking every rapper in the business Niggas saying you was better when the drugs was in your system Now your crack swag gone ever since you came from prison Got you tweeting all stupid, is you skatin', is you dissin' Found out your ghost leased and your phantom just rented Won't leave it in your name like pac when he went missing Makaveli lives on so I'm riding on you bitches
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