Me

I know you niggas ain't fuckin' with me [Chorus] How dare these niggas try to fuckin' hate on me Come out and make records sound just like me But nobody does this here quite like me Now let me tell a little something 'bout me Pops tags, things fresh to death like me Who pulls more whips out the stash than me Y'all bitches wanna ride, c'mon it's on me I guess it's my time, all eyes is on me Man everybody wanna rhyme like Rule, sing like Rule Talk some shit to get they name on the news Papers, haters never pay they dues Always got their feet in somebody shoes Walk with me, or ride this old Bentley With the rims you can sit in Or the Enso with them TV's that's hidden I stay in menages with various women Huh, I'm just kiddin' that's not how I'm livin' The realest, the nigga in the realest state I got real estates in different states, go figure Cause I ain't singing you'se a "Gold Digger" But bitches, "you ain't fuckin' with no broke niggas" That's why I ride, ain't you see I put you on the CLS We on the point your voice sound like sex, yes There's no real way to stop me, that's why y'all copy I know you niggas ain't fuckin' with me [Chorus] Yea, I know, one more gin, bitch you better come on in Relax a while, sip on hypno and henn I like your style, you're so old school In them Sasson Vidals, fifty four eleven Reebok classics Remind me of '87 when Niggas was playing with blocks like little kids and Even though we men we still big wheelin' Still cop cribs, six beds, four baths, high ceilings All of the art of drug-dealin' cause every mil Is two for me, when it's all tax-free Pray for God's children, all except for me I'mma walk in the path the Lord has paved for me One foot at a time, niggas follow my footsteps Put the world on my shoulders, leave one set of footprints Man, y'all motherfuckers can't stop me, that's why y'all copy I know you niggas ain't fuckin' with me [Chorus] I know what a nigga that do right, can't do no wrong And everything's alright, till everythin' goes wrong No part to piss in, no shoulder to cry on You get to thinkin' why can't we let by-gones be by-gones Rule the icon, who killed the industry like iPods Had these niggas runnin' like track stars Except runnin' backwards when I sit back rollin' the backwoods Loadin' my trey-deuce for them niggas that act hood Ridin' my six-deuce uptown, I'm so hood Bitches love the coupes when them doors swing upwards Money long, I'm putting from the green like T-Woods Hard white is not to be confused with white good White gold should never be perceived as platinum And cubic-zirconium never gon' shine like diamonds Cause, no matter how hard they copy, they still not me Y'all bitch niggas ain't fuckin' with me [Chorus]