Lyrics:
Jean Martinon

old chains Now the little nigga doing big old things Would you look at that, I came back for her Just to give it to her, like you asked for it Man that thing in them jeans

off a cup of cj gibson, man Im faded off to Brown, i?m easily influenced by the n-ggas Im around, see that aston martin when i start it hear the sound

around and get ur wig pushed backwards pushed off the backboards blow dat thing california license plate, u know that Benz im focused like a Kodak lens bought my Aston Martin

Let a grand hang out, let a grand hang out If you ballin', then quit the stallin', let a grand hang out My pockets like Wyclef Jean, the Fugees We them

Allow me to set the scene first This little n-gga no older than 17 in a Martin Luther King shirt Walking down the mean merc where the fiends lurk And

and paul wall up in this, bitch In da aston martin outside Seein' sumbody, baby, momma gon' take a rid I'm rollin' on cigarillo afta cigarillo afta cigarillo Goddammit, I'm high Orford Dodger jeans

no tick Bitch I think I'm Jean Wolf A dog nigga, ballin' bitch Fly as Ricky steam boat? Me and my Moschino I dont wear no 501's 1000 dollar jeans flow

crack rock working the streets All them hoes fantasize about juggalo scrubs In between they thighs But they too scared to let it be So instead they fuck Ricky Martin

with my flow have you amazed and astonished I've been hot since I copped my first sega with sonic Back in the days when Shawn Kemp played for the sonics I rocked the huge jeans