Uh, yea, yea, yea Let's go niggas C'mon nigga, c'mon nigga I be dippin' in tha twilight, wit gangstas Smokin' weed up in my ride life The same stuff, it's still a bitch, livin' like I'm rich Bang broads call me Mr. International, ghetto stars I be dippin' in tha twilight, wit gangstas Smokin' weed up in my ride life The same stuff, it's still a bitch, livin' like I'm rich Bang broads call me Mr. International, ghetto stars Yo' I talk like a champion, walk like a champion Body like a God, and I promise that Nas will hit you off Flow like a gangsta, blum bum bum bum bum Bustin' like dummies, so mami you come and lick it off I stay right, purple haze'd outfit stay on my hip Blood stay in my mouf, petron layed out Tequila sunrise and five 6's, surprise bitches Nas from the trenches, hot as he survived This is ten years, here for good, rep fo' my thugs Plumper than last summer, stomach streched from tha grub Good livin', good women, I fuck wit straight stallions Bowleg stances, go 'head handsome But they all scream, my car's lean Hit up, every state, town, city wit my braveheart team Pretty face, round tits and ass, stay my queen Keep a burna in tha trunk, ate all fifteen When I be dippin' in tha twilight, wit gangstas Smokin' weed up in my ride life The same stuff, it's still a bitch, livin' like I'm rich Bang broads call me Mr. International, ghetto stars I be dippin' in tha twilight, wit gangstas Smokin' weed up in my ride life The same stuff, it's still a bitch, livin' like I'm rich Bang broads call me Mr. International, ghetto stars Yo' if you see me on MTV, don't forget I'm tha same nigga from QB Sittin' on tha block, hungry and starvin' Imaginin' performin' at Madison Square Garden Or Radio City, in New York City Bring tha whole hood wit me, gallons of henny My homie got shot right befo' my eyes I got shot too, but I survived I was just a teenager, never had a pager Always had flava, chasin' dat paper I need dem diamonds, dem new clothes Pretty hoes, dat Bently Coupe all red like a rose And everybody knows, my gun goes off In tha west coast, durty south, and up north Jungle tha boss, a natural born hustler I despise suckas, ya punk muthafuckas When I be dippin' in tha twilight, wit gangstas Smokin' weed up in my ride life The same stuff, it's still a bitch, livin' like I'm rich Bang broads call me Mr. International, ghetto stars I be dippin' in tha twilight, wit gangstas Smokin' weed up in my ride life The same stuff, it's still a bitch, livin' like I'm rich Bang broads call me Mr. International, ghetto stars Nigga I'm high wit high hopes, fuck tha bullshit Stand up in front of dat, you get tha full clip I'll beat a nigga senseless, his skin is missin', listen My knockouts is six, so serious Bang wit a "b" on my chest, ya'll niggas is bitches Ya touch me and I'm pullin' ya dress from stitches to stitchin' I hate y'all niggas, stomp you out like roaches Can't you see I'm here to get this paper just I'm suppose to I been a BraveHeart since semen, cesspool my pops schemin' One thought to get up in my moms jeans and it came to this It feel like a muthafucka dreamin', but I'm here Fuck anything another nigga thinkin', see dem BraveHearts Damn, those my niggas, you got drama wit 'em Sleep witcha gun unda ya fuckin' pillow This is real thangs, I know shit feels strange How dem QB niggas do thangs, check dis shit When I be dippin' in tha twilight, wit gangstas Smokin' weed up in my ride life The same stuff, it's still a bitch, livin' like I'm rich Bang broads call me Mr. International, ghetto stars I be dippin' in tha twilight, wit gangstas Smokin' weed up in my ride life The same stuff, it's still a bitch, livin' like I'm rich Bang broads call me Mr. International, ghetto stars © SWIZZ BEATZ PUBLISHING; UNIVERSAL MUSIC CORP.; Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com