Royal

Chilling in my hood
 Ice water in my cold cup just to keep my cup cold
 Babys all good
 Grey rag 'round my face, platinum switchblade clipped on my hip
 Gold gun on my fucking waist
 Crucify me on the street light, ho
 I'm a fucking psycho like a psychic with this motherfuckin' mic
 Blown up!
 Kill for the Seventh, die for gray
 Fuck these bitches, then I disappear and fade away
 The only way I'm stickin' 'round is for the petty cash
 Movin' fast, smokin' gawdy with a touch of hash
 Bust his ass
 If you comin' lookin' for the drama
 Up the llama, got more bottles than a baby mama
 Young Stevie Wonder with the thunder on my trigger finger
 I swear this ditch smell a dead bodies always linger
 Come get your issue, ho