Gold medals
Them my role models
Rolling old models, lowered old schools
Flowing cold and going (?)
Flower bearing, call it petals to the floor
Power sharing, call it devils to the door
Power, power, till it ain’t no devils anymore
Flower, flowers, they be dropping at the feet of my son
Move a thousand miles per hour down the street of my slum
(?) to the beat of my drum
It was little Susie (?)
She so cracking, (?) a k**er
All pitch, don’t tick
Wasn’t trapping with no n***as
Had a long money (?) and that action for them figures
(???)
Ask me could she get inside
She pointed at her pistol so I properly replied
Told me, out here in the streets, she ain’t have no competition
And with me up on the beats, that we shared the same description
(?) to her lips, she said, “Now here’s my propositionâ€
You just write up all your raps for me and I’ma go and spit it
Then we take ‘em to the radio, the DJ (?) spin ‘em
Then we take ‘em to the radio and sell a couple million