White Cadillac

[Chorus:]

Yeah, white Cadillac, Top off

White girls are ready to ride off

Yeah, all the spaceship across

5-4-3-2-1 gone

I'm so outta here [x2]

I'm so so so so outta here

I'm so outta here

I'm so outta here

5-4-3-2-1 I'm gone

[Verse 1:]

Live from the mind of a lunatic

Grew up on the east side Dope Boyz moving bricks

Me? I'm in the basement

Rocking with my dope bag

Where the hell is Andre?

I grew up with no dad

Mr.Biggie so rad

You should take a photograph

I'm so outta here you see me soaring in my hovercraft

Y'all don't wanna fuck with that

Boy like heroin

Welcome to my do-jo

No I'm not barreling

They say I'm a dreamer

Looking at the stars

Never risking songs about money on the cars

I just wanna rock mic

Living in the spotlight

Waking from a nightmare

Feeling somethings not right

I can wait to leave here 12 never looking back

Jarren on the book it rap

Talking niggas cookie crack

Living in the future

[?]

But I took it back

White Cadillac, Gotta love the way I'm looking at

[Chorus]

[Verse 2:]

The city sleeping on me like a silly posturepedic

But knowing me, I'll probably pop their hearts out and eat it

Yeah

I'm so outta here

I'm so outta here

My girl worry she think a baby's acting weird

Afraid of loosing me

She hold a back tear

And when I make it I promise I'm coming back here

Better yet I send a (pack of beer?)

A rocketship, we dipping out of the atmosphere

Yesterday I was wearier tomorrow

Now me and your Momma slam a Cadillac cargo

Living on a pull out not a dollar in my cargo's

She does all the same from the cater to kilargo

Yeah from misty hallways the white picket fences

Opportunity just keep the guards on the hinges

I bet they hate it when I'm up, up, on

5-4-3-2-1 gone

[Chorus]

[Verse 3:]

I'm an east side monster

Came from the bottom

I'm so outta here That I'm a mother fucking problem

I love hip-hop

Karma die rhyming

Levitate over niggas I defy science

I'm a get rich one day

Or die trying

Niggas got lifes

Say they rather die frying

Momma coming home from a hard day crying

Why life to working a Vegas shes sighing

Would I die dressed tell her, Momma keep trying

Until I'm at the top

I'm a keep climbing

Yeah

Writing like I'm scribbling my last words

Spit it like I'm spitting out my last verse

I'm so sick say I need to see a pastor

Whack nigga killing

Turning niggas into Casper

I say they hate it when I'm up, up, on

5-4-3-2-1 bitch gone

[Chorus x2]