(Babe Reg) Yeah yeah Woke up one morning to see my n***as from high school Checc it out Babe Reg...Mr. Doctor...Foe Loco (Babe Reg) Woke up one morning out some bomb a** cocc My dick kinda limp so I cruise around the blocc Call my cousin Doc as I swoop in the drop Stop by my homie Foe house to puff on the ounce Seen my little homie Twamp who I ain't seen in a while n***a gone been floatin on clout nine Headed to the Liquor sto', got some mixed gin and juice Got a quarter pound of k**s so I'm fucced up for real Seven, eight, nine ten eleven twelve Bailed bacc in the crib (For what?) Because I'm all-in Conversated then I dug the hoe out I fixed me some food, then go the hell out Two A.M. on the diz-ot, I pause and I stiz-op I reminisce on that a** that I riz-occed And now I'm high as a kite Yeahh, and I'm feelin alright Four A.M. as I stoll bacc to my crib To see what's with my woman and my newborn kid (Mr. Doctor) With my mind on my money and my money on my mind We do this everyday about the same time, be-otch! (Foe Loco) Up at Rosemont Park one day, that's when I saw her face She looked kind of cavi to me And when I take her home, and tap that a** I'm gone I'm just a hog don't blame me (Mr. Doctor) Yeah, yeah...yeah, yeah Now do I love them hoes? (Reg: n***a hell naw) And why is that? (Reg: Because we some gangsta's Doc) (Reg: And we don't never give a fucc about a b**h To Odysea...b**hes ain't sh** but hoes and triccs) Ha hah, dee dee dadi dadi dah Listen to the sounds from my n***a Mr. Doc While I slide through the city in the rag six-tre' Hoppin like a mutha fucca tryin to find some play Hittin all the spots but I'm comin up blank I'm headed to the liquor store to get myself some drank Parks my ride as I, steps inside, as I Slips my Colt 45 by my side, as I Continue with my mission p**y is my dish and I'm dishin, dishin Upon a star, to come up on some ends for my caviar And a little bit of p**y So I can get my pimp on Cause my pig gets my pimp on from G to Odysea, n***a (Babe Reg) I put my pen, on cold Ohio nights And the b**h didn't freezed up when I wanted her to write Put my pen in the hot California sun And the b**h didn't swear nor run What's up girl, you know you look good But you got to pay me cuz you ain't from my hood I need skrills, gotta pay the bills And you lookin kind of over the hills Make my money...bring it home Cuz I don't wanna have to knocc you in your dome b**h...where my money at Don't start to runnin batch I might have to slap you Don't want to have to slap you Don't want to have to bacc you Up of the N Up off the North, up off the South Up off the East and West b**h...them breasts is my tits I run you, I want all of it I'm the balla b**h Bring all skrills cuz you know