Winston Wolf

Sim simma, who got the keys to my Beamer!
Smoking in these gamma rays, you can call me leader
Buchou with my white suit, where’s me
After black light, you better not with Keisha
Who am I, the girls them sugar
You in a pressure cooker somewhere underground in Brooklyn
Twanging rounders with the Russians, which is oreos still crooked
Good looking, I couldn’t get his Zora Neal to booking
While Fresh as god his look out waving in
Jake is looking, Killing Phenom’s on the blacktop
Laughing at police is stupid
Young Fresh is hanging pitbulls
Chucky tries to get his name out, shit
Had the upper hand and took
pulled the chain out
Now rush, pass me the keys to the cuffs
We rolled the backup buses when a token was too much
They cornered off our, our resources dry up
We all of the jewels they told us time’s up
And so I light up, the fluffy sense of
Always got a spare lighter, keep a zippo with my speakers
Had a and a beeper, when the leaders still had Busta
When old dirty jumped the corner, I was working on my jumper
And Mason at the, I was on my
Cold-blooded in the finals with the number
You run into my building, I ain’t give you my number
Your gold pussy is old so I cannot be your lover
When Snoop was just a pup, 187 undercover
The time Michael got the jump on and put her under
When Omar had the jump, when the hunter turned the hunted
And I’m always choosing when I have to
Shot it under six-tenths, you can all play
You must also blame the US for the plots that killed the Mamba