The Dope House Mind

I gotta palomino horse with versacci saddle
 Ima cocaine cowboy with crops n cattle
 Half dog and jackal pop Don like snapple
 Got my first paycheck when I robbed the randall's
 Flow hot like campbell's change broads like channels
 Two or three at time cuz we all just mammals
 The songs I sample bought my mom a castle
 Bought pops a fuckin non filter box of camels
 Comp soft n fragile get stomped and trampled
 While they bitch in my car tryna bob for apples
 Sport glocks in flannels with the common vandals
 Takin hits off homemade bong with handles
 Its a lawless battle as my toughts unravel
 Pull my gun and like eggs niggaz dodge and scramble
 Still lost in travel and my hearts in shambles
 While the seeds in my weed snap pop n crackle
 Who fuks with the rhyme of the dope house mind
 Who shines in the dark in these end of times
 Line after line who keep it the realest
 Only u cuz the others to scared to live it
 I do videos with a bunch of pretty hoes
 In a benz wearin K-mart dickie clothes
 Give a toast listen close to dat nigga Los
 When we was hungry Mom would say "Get the fishin poles"
 Really thou back when I sported chilli bowls
 And used to dream about rappin on Jenny Jones
 My city thowed stop actin lik u didnt kno
 Gettin rich n we still screamin "Gimme mo!"
 In the props gotta stay on ya tippy toes
 They tryda kill me few bullets came really close
 Now tha bitch is froze twisted in a wicked pose
 And his toes colda than my Michelobs
 Diggin holes lik ima tryna find some hidden gold
 He got nice shoes, wonda if I fit on those?
 The sickest flows, I got guns dat can kill a ghost
 At the club wearin dead man's Kenneth Coles
 Candy blue 5 parka and a moonlight sparka
 Let me tell ya bout the life of a pure white rocka
 A true live balla, might cruise my 'pala
 Or just soak in the sun and take poolside calla
 Its the hood fly talka and if you lik drama
 Ima da rappa dat'll rap ya in a two-ply potna
 With fruit flies gonna my ginsu knife sharpa
 Den dat thang they was swangin at the Luke Skywalka
 Listen boo, I gotta notta screw tight on tha
 Fukin brain that aint been sane since a cute shy toddla
 My new nine's hotta than a july jogga
 Or even me on the news sayin "Oooh hi Momma"
 Neva knew my fatha til I grew quite larga
 But by the I was ten walkin through high water
 Old dude tried harda then a suicide bomba
 Im like "Dad is too late, Ima foo, why botha"