Got It Made

[gonzoe] (talking)

Uh-oh, (uh-oh) here it go again (here it go)

Oh fuck! (oh shit) shit, shake that shit bitch

Huh, (yeah) yeah, it's me, gonzoe

Came to rock you mother fuckers right quick

You know what I'm sayin? kick that thesoline

Know what I'm sayin

[verse 1 - gonzoe]

Nigga, I'm tryin to have it made

Fuckin with mink and suede

Hoppin out of jags on niggaz

When me shit parfait

Like livarache

Hoe, smell the heats of meakee

I'm too cocky

My life's too rocky

So fuck y'all

Nigga pissy off with me

You separate all

It means nothin

I talk your bitch out the drawls

For the fuck of it

And turp off bumpin

It's in the shed

Bounce to this

Cause you feelin it

Respect me killin it nigga

I'mma be that rich cat

Tell them niggaz where I hold my chips and whips at

I'm a young nigga never found guilty

Clean as fuck but still filthy

Workers on the corners tryin to milk me

For knowledge

Like 'damn! you smashin in college? '

Big ass glots and keepin dollars

Don't bother choppin work no more

I hit the liquor store

Relax with a glass of conyac and smoke

Nigga

[chorus - gonzoe]

I got it made! (got it made)

Fuckin with mink and suede (mink and suede)

All my pieces par made

Bitch, I'm doin this shit my way (my way)

Bitch, all us niggaz we got it made

I'm paid, fuckin with mink and suede

Hoppin out of jags on niggaz (us)

When me shit bumpay

Like liverache

Hoe, smell the heats of meakee (hoe)

I'm too cocky

My ice too rocky

So fuck y'all

[verse 2 - gonzoe]

Uh, it's too much money to me

Y'all niggaz is actin fake

Playa-hatin, talkin up on my shit like ricki lake

Comin chili's for hoes

Why you lyin bout who you know?

Stay broke, never got no ervails on the smoke, lock the timmy

Foo, you killin me, actin phony

Sittin on your cake with a round of homies, you're pretty tony

Gettin worked, cochberts, versace, domeinberg

What you bought is what she wear when she go do dirt

The truth hurt

All the same

With no backs to claim

But you slept because it was all part of the game

Chorus

[verse 3 - gonzoe]

Yeah, y'all niggaz can't touch me

I'm spotless, you dusty

My pistol crusty

All the niggaz I wet

They all trust me

Till the federals bust me

Out for the dusty

Gangsta like bugsy

Livin lavish up in luxury

The bombay, mr.icicle

Come swallow the pickle

Us dons all stressed and rippled

It ain't a thing

Tryin to find this game man

Stack up for the drought

Cause one day it's gonna rain

In big drops

Cop, blind side of my cyclops

As it bubble, I watch the pattern transform

To rocks nigga, going to glocks, money in stacks

Cause he got this, and I got that (what)