1010 Wins - The Alchemist

I’m smoking big killa on the Clearwater beach

And every time I speak I hear «Go ahead your honor, preach.»

I’m too hot for you niggas not to acknowledge me

The prodigy could talk a married bitch out of monogamy

I’m out of reach but your posture ain’t looking promising

I’m pressing pussies, gynecology, you niggas robbing me

I deserve respect, cut a check, fuck and investment meet

For all the mess it has to for tracks I handle recklessly

I’m Glen Rice from the corner, three, in there

Swimwear twisted like Dub-C chin hair

I payed Holyfield to take the dive

Fix the drug test, we getting richer

Blood or a spritzer

Cherry oak wood shifter

In a Jaguar, shoes are made from Babar

Roll the lethal

Seats in the Regal same color as Mario Van Peebles

I’m like a young Stephen Seagal

My favorite move’s a clothesline

Dragon jacket, hair slicked back when it’s go time

Motherfucker I’m a great artist

I fixed the game between Georgia Tech and Wake Forest

Fly shit we make that, Marvel we bake that

Pull a shotty, leave your body where the lake’s at

Staying foul places, strip clubs with meth faces

All my fam’s thumbs smell like gloves that catch cases

Not trying to glorify, but my story’s obnoxious

Y’all faggot rappers wash your faces in a box of sausage

Surpreme server, bare burger when we order ostrich

Opposite of niggas poppin' shit cause we pop lips for gossip

Fluent Jewish lock it, gun black like Lewis Gossett

Predict the profit so I prophesize the fucking profit

Plush thoughts flood to Christopher Cross

Throw out the Rollie with the salt, park the Renault

Your number was called

I grip the nine iron like golf

Wipe 'em off

At night ride the white horse with the torch

You bleed out by the court while I’ve leaving court

Defeat of course, my cohorts snort

Pop a wart and read the robber port

Drive a quattroporte

Step on the product with the Rockports

Spark a Newport

Whip up a stew, this is food for thought

Pursue the course and floss in the newest Porsche

Tell your stories running, walking isn’t fast enough

These cats will lap you up like milk out of a plastic cup

You bastards stuck somewhere between fragile and half a chump

I’d bet you fucks a thousand bucks your dad wishes he’s wrapped it up

We rapscallions, like a bundle of onions

How you find the gumption to be out here trying to function

I fixed the game dog, I’m neutering the poodle

Got the ruger to your noodle and the goons are yelling «Who you?»

The rental car’s window’s rose-tinted, dope in it

The credit card got a tank in it, no limit