Can I turn you on by my word's spell?
Look into my eyes think I want you, can't tell
Me I keep it sexy, daddy so I can't fail
Keep it gangsta for the cowards so I give 'em hell
Call me misfit, lips spit a gang of trash
Wrist glist now cause I make a gang of cash
Light glance, still street with the do-rag
Slang, spit game, change speech, how they do that?
Watch they mouths drop, watch the crowds pop up and act out
Broads with the screw face, smash on and knock out
Ain't changed game game around me, I run the game
If I gotta keep it gritty so be it, I'm supposed to change
Like simple, dizzy broads ain't messin' with my mental
Natural born hustlin' bitch check what I've been through
Got mine took it from you, and now you slot mine
Exec to my own shit, dawg I ownin' dot coms'
Refrain
Yo, yo I can understand why you're scared of Eve
Thought I did it one way, ain't prepared for me
Huh, mad cause an image I don't care to be
Realness, real shit, spit reality
Attitude rude, that's the Philly in I
Need me in the game, I'm the thrill in your life
Breath of fresh air
Little boys hang me on their wall, I grow 'em chest hair
Why you listenin to other shit?
You go the best here
Come on try your luck shorty, I got the rest scared
Bet you anything you aint ready and you get left there
Ain't known for frontin' vouch for my behavior,
Same way they get down I get down for this paper
Sixteen lean from my pence so you can test her
Still need to know who I am then cop the record
Take it like a class on me and learn the lesson
Bottom line my world, my way any questions
Refrain
Uh, yo power moves is made everyday by this thorough bitch
I'mma get this bank anyway that I do this shit
I was born to shine while most of y'all was borderline bullshit
Know exactly what I want from me, you cats is clueless,
Dispose the flow through my hands like water
Heat starts growing from my son or my daughter
Eve want her own cash, fuck what you bought her
He spend, you owe, that's what mommy taught her
All ball is played, won't starve today
Song after song I write so I get paid
Thought I wasn't followin' up with the second round
Now bitch swallow it up while I shut it down
Make em love me over again and over your name
Betcha they get over your style and over your fame
Why you lookin sad at me, I ain't the blame
Back to plan B baby I can feel your pain
Notes de production :