One More Hit

My paintbrush, you can’t touch, told the bitch I’m
Richer than half the Lakers, now go to sleep, you wake up
To bubble baths in Vegas, bet a hundred on Rick (Bet a hundred on Rick)
Conway screw loose, he got shot in the head (He got shot in the head)
We the illest ever, hundred chains on my deathbed (Ah, ah)
Stove Jesus, I was cookin' for three days
And then it rose up out the pot, Hov was on the box (Woo)
«D'evils», verse two, shit touched my soul, I had to stop (I had to stop)
Then got right back to whippin', I’m on the clock (Woo)
Inshallah, these niggas wake up and know that they ain’t me (Inshallah)
Off-White zip tie on the cross when they hang me (When they hang me)
Kneel on the brick, say the Lord’s Chant (Pray to a real nigga)
LuxTouch marble shine like the floor is damp (Woo)
Kilos under the hood with the Porsche stamp (You see 'em?)
Cartier goggles, bitch, I’m Horace Grant (I'm Horace Grant)
Forty below, look like I’m mountain climbin', my nigga said
His first year in the mountains, he felt like he was dyin' (Felt like it was
over)
He said he prayed through summer and he read through winter
Then he came home rich, I had the bread delivered
Bitch, I just hit seven figures (Woo)
The same night, my young shooter hit eleven niggas (Brr, bah, bah, bah)
Stove