Chorus: C-Bo 
 All I ever wanted was a pair of Nikes 
 A Lexus, a mansion and eternal life 
 Maybe what it was, I was askin for too much 
 Prayin to God, thinkin 'did he give a fuck?' 
 Twelve years old, I was always told 
 Every day I want it, that glitter ain't gold 
 But fuck that shit, I want a twelve inch dick 
 A Coupe, a chrome, and a money makin bitch 
 Verse 1: C-Bo 
 A 'Lac, front, back, man, I wish I had it 
 In a brim, Rolex down wit a automatic 
 I be the shit, pimpin hoes from Cali to Louisville 
 Strip em for money in Magic City and the A-T-L 
 Cos see these bitches ain't shit but investments 
 And they ain't worth shit unless they makin profit 
 I need a money-makin bitch to satisfy my needs 
 Some pussy, dough, diamonds and G's 
 So when I swoop in my coupe, out to get my loot 
 Collect it from hookers more famous than Betty Boo 
 It be that, legalised pimpin that's keepin me above the water 
 Fuck a bitch, get rich and live the life of a baller 
 Cos a broke bitch ain't nuttin but a downfall 
 Unless she cement her money and her mind, y'all 
 And wit straight-laced game is how ya take control 
 I been practisin the shit since twelve years old 
 Chorus 
 Verse 2: Lunasicc 
 One foot in the grave and eleven inches insane 
 Psychotic nigga named Lunasicc, squattin out them gold thangs 
 Slappin these bitches, y'all can't be laggin on the payroll 
 Let's get your ass right back to the track before your face get steezo 
 I'm cold like the winter, get up in your flesh like a splinter 
 I dash with the cash then mash on the gas, prepare a hog for dinner 
 Creepin when I'm sleepin, my bitch ya want coasted 
 by the window, wit an AK ready for niggas wit their gunplay 
 Cap peelers, drug dealers, I thought you knew 
 that if you fuck wit one of my niggas then you're fuckin wit the crew 
 We roll deep like sheep, always strapped wit some heat 
 Original gangsta, fuck a prankster, ride my nuts like a beat, huh 
 I'm bout it, bout it, but niggas like you, I doubt it, doubt it 
 I come thru, drinkin blue lookin bout it, bout it 
 Ready for the gunplay, move the crowd like we the O-Jays 
 Blastin like I'm crazy out the Colt wit my .3-80, Mafioso 
 Chorus 
 Verse 3: 151 
 Las Vegas, Lake Tahoe to Reno 
 Bitches on the highest floors of the casinos 
 Butt naked, checkin money by the G stack 
 As I pose at the crap tables, sippin on yak 
 I'm just a baller, wit a grip of money-makin hoes 
 Might catch em fo'-deep in a C-Ville on triple golds 
 Wit cell phones and pagers as if it's on a grind 
 So to keep em an X-rated pussy is a goldmine 
 I'm on a major mission to increase my stacks to the highest climax 
 I'm wrapped up in my safe and G-pacts 
 Crackin like green weed sacks, for slangin, for danglin 
 youngstas wit their pants hangin, gangbangin, .45 stangin 
 Ain't no tamin, aimin, accurate, we hit em off and slid em off 
 They get off in the Valley, immaculately, sippin rally's 
 Winners are stackin chips up like alleys 
 From Seattle to Cali, the North of Valley, nigga 
 Chorus 
 Bitch