ICY WINTER

Verse 1:

Fuck with my c-notes, i'm going Pacino
I wrap the cheese like burritos, bred (bread) in my chinos
Easy girls impossible women, Gotti was winning
Proved God he was sinning
On my p's and q's and ices, upping the prices
Hunger pains the belly of beast
I wet the curb for those who deceased

My classic now, ya tape TBA
Ya Rockstar game's all GTA
I'm from the era when the, hustlers'll tear ya wig up
So bad some barely pick up, but still the dough continue

Everyone's a cat now, afraid of dog business
I'm talking the God business, car tinted, you ain't authentic
I see through it, I paw-print it, you all gimmick
I walk in it, I'm top pickin - no other choice
Little boys is 5'9 thinking they Royce
You should know the heart from the fucking voice kid

Instrumental break:

Verse 2:

Master P how I step in my new gators
Make it red (read) everywhere like a newspaper
Reez on the cut, give ya crew tapers
I want the cheese up front, I can't do favors

Blue paper coming in like a damn heist
Bums trying to gamble like them boys had dice
Whips and chains, they're slaves to the rap life
That's why they're getting left like they can't write (right)

I push the issue like a kilo out the gray camino
Spumoni swagger out the venue like I'm fucking Dino
I'm paying dues plus the fam handle - Gambino
I handle biz in a robe - el duderino

Too much dough, need a chef and an abacus
Feds want me in the court like atticus
Thats why I'm staying covered, like bandages
Keep their hands off my art this shit the Vatican