Digital Scale

I put my coke on a digital scale
 I put my weed on a digital scale
 I put my dope on a digital scale
 It's time to re-up what my scale read
 We got eightballs, sevens, fourteens, and Oz's
 Sixty-two eights of that raw, imported keys
 Half of chicken whole chicken
 Niggas got to cop 'n' go, yo
 I said you niggas got to cop 'n' go
 This is like fast food, nigga
 May I take your order?
 I require nothin' cookin' but bakin' soda 'n' water - ice, cold
 That's crack inside that Pyrex
 We get the work, then move the work
 The pressure we apply next
 Every now and then, a nigga set-trip
 I8 BMW; I'm electric
 Keep that hammer around me in case shit get hectic
 Shit pop off when I'm rhymin', I protect it
 Fuck around
 I put my coke on a digital scale
 I put my weed on a digital scale
 I put my dope on a digital scale
 It's time to re-up what my scale read
 Hand me that plastic bag right there, Yayo
 Baggin' up half a brick
 My lawyer sittin' on the couch
 He said it's cool, Buck; I swear I won't open my mouth
 (I weigh a bag on the triple-beam scale)
 I'm all kushed out, coke under my (fingernail)
 My uncle been playin' with that powder, and I can tell
 You know that crack smell, and he lookin' all frail
 My sister need bail; she just caught the weed sell
 Now the feds on her trail
 I just got the email
 Shit crazy, but I'm still cookin' up babies
 in' up my niggas daily with this dope
 Get out and get some, nigga
 Can't pay me if you broke, no
 Let a nigga hang himself - just give him enough rope
 I get it fresh out the boat
 I put my coke on a digital scale
 I put my weed on a digital scale
 I put my dope on a digital scale
 It's time to re-up what my scale read
 Numbers don't lie; scales don't either
 Every time you out, fiends wanna reach ya
 Out with some bitches, fiends wanna call
 In the club with my niggas, fiends wanna call
 When I'm waitin' on them, man they never call
 The life of a hustler in a nutshell
 G-5 eatin' snakes, soup and raw fish
 Snakes see the Ray Phantom off of raw fish
 My main bitch is like Bonnie Parker
 My side bitch is like Clyde Barrow
 They start to shoot you up shit's creek without a paddle
 They roll up and smoke you like Kumar and Harold
 Catch 'em in the whip like Caine cousin, Harold
 My nigga flippin' on his P.O. cause he can't travel
 You owe me, I take your child for collateral
 Gun wave, hello
 Shots echo
 Won't save money - switch to Gekko
 You known from the get-go
 I ain't 'bout to let nobody play with my green
 When they coward belly yellow
 Polka-dot carbine on your chest, screamin' "hold on"
 Hold on
 You see my face and let go
 I'm from the N.O.; better check the death toll
 You was playin' Casanova
 Cookin' bitches casserole
 I was on the ave with O's, me and red taggin' toes
 On the Greyhound bus
 Pounds in my baggy clothes
 Huh
 I put my coke on a digital scale
 I put my weed on a digital scale
 I put my dope on a digital scale
 It's time to re-up what my scale read