What's all the fuckin' fussin' for?
Because I'm grubbin' more and I pack heat like I'm the oven door?
Niggas pray and pray on my downfall
But every time I hit the ground I bounce up like roundball
Can I live? I told you in '96 that I came to take this shit
And I did handle my biz, I scramble like Randall with his
Cunningham, but the only thing runnin' is numbers, fam
Sanford held you down six summers, damn, where's the love?