1 Troy Ounce Silver Worth $1,000,000,000,000,000,000 - King Stevian

This is us Impalas parked next to Bentley trucks Four Benz supposed to be here, I should dig 'em up But since I can't, we gon' hold this Henny up 15 years of greatness 15 years of hatin' 15 years of patience, that's what I had to practice So I ain't end up back on that country jail mattress Fuck all this rap shit In Compton we in the dirt, sticks on us like a cactus Cincinnati on, closin' on the third strap Gave two away to some fans, this my third hat Runnin' this marathon, I'm on my third lap Where my key to the city, don't ya'll think I deserve that? L.A. sheriffs left Ryan on the curb, flat 37 shots, so I'm on 133rd strap 40oz love, white Air Force One's in the mud You don't front in on the Cutlass like, "What's up?" See my dead homie mama, hop out and give her a hug 40oz love, niggas gon' ask, so choose one, Crip or Blood Money fallin' out of your pocket, why you're sellin' drugs? And we drinkin' Old English, grab a cup, I fill it up for you You outta gas? I fill it up for you You surrounded in the club? We pullin' up for you You went to jail? I took that money, put it up for you You still got your hand out like I ain't did enough for you You put on that snitch jacket and it stuck to you On my life, I love you but I can't fuck with you I gotta stick to the code Never slip, never fold, and stay rich 'til I'm old Love my kids on my soul Both my baby mamas know if I go Open the safe and give 'em all the gold And my cousin, Magic Cold, he in the pen on his toes How you talkin' people into transferrin' you to a level 4? He got 20 months left, that shit movin' hella slow 20 blunts, half a pound a day until they let him go I give him 30 racks every time he touch the surface I'm startin' to think this nigga goin' to jail on purpose Either way, I gotta keep givin' you 40oz love White Air Force Ones in the mud You don't front in on the Cutlass like, "What's up?" See my dead homie mama, hop out and give her a hug 40oz love, niggas gon' ask, so choose one, Crip or Blood Money fallin' out your pocket, why you sellin' drugs? And we drinkin' Old English, grab a cup, I fill it up for you