Livin Legend

[Intro]
This game got magnetism, it makes you gravitate to it
Even in an empty-ass room with no bitches shakin' they ass, me not countin' no money
You still watching my motherfuckin' ass in a chair, talk shit in an empty room
Simply because this game is just that motherfuckin' hard
And once you get this game and you digest this in your spirit
Them women gon' gravitate, you gotta be able to speak this game though
Lookin' good ain't good enough
Lookin' good ain't good enough when it comes to this game
Yeah

[Verse 1: Premo Rice]
Well, it's the P (P), the motherfuckin' nigga (Yeah)
The god (Yeah), the truth (Yeah)
The one who pour his soul out in the booth (Okay, okay)
The ghetto superstar, I'm 'round the way, so hide your ho (Okay, okay)
I'm flashing foreign cars and movin' large below the scope (Huh?)
You dig it (Dig it), my repertoire is vicious (Vicious)
My game be in the pros, I make the bitch stand on her pivot (Pivot)
I tell the bitch you with it or you ain't (Yeah)
You do it or you can't (Yeah), stayin' sharper than a shank (Huh?)
You dig? (Dig) This pimpin' more than big (Big)
It's giant (Giant), I do this all the time (Uh-huh)
I'm dapper by design (Uh-huh), my bitches stand in line (Yeah)
I'm calm (Calm), I'm cool (Cool), I'm sneaky with the tool (Yeah)
Try run up on a P, you frontin' hard, you bound to lose (Huh?)
I'm too official (Official), I'm at the top, I'm presidential (Huh?)
Go harder on a ho, don't double up, bitch, make it triple (Bitch, make it triple)
You niggas artificial like these bitches' BBLs (Huh?)
It's Mr. Rice the god, I give 'em hell (I give 'em hell)
I wish you well

[Bridge]
Woke up in the morning, smokin' breakfast, got me dazed
Woke up in the morning, smokin' breakfast, got me dazed
Sucker bitch, my pockets swole up
Sucker bitch, my pockets swole up
Style, baby doo-doo braids
Woke up in the morning, smokin' breakfast, got me dazed
Woke up in the morning, smokin' breakfast, got me dazed
Sucker bitch, my pockets swole up
Sucker bitch, my pockets swole up
Huh?
Style, baby doo-doo braids

[Verse 2: Premo Rice]
I'm the magnificent, the motherfuckin' player pope (Huh?)
This verse is for all these bitches droppin' off they pantyhose (They drop 'em off, huh?)
So say, "What's up?" (Say, "What's up?"), say, "What's up?" (Say, "What's up?)
Say, "What's up?" (Say, "What's up?"), say, "What's up?" (Say, "What's up?")
To all the ladies with the babies standing ten (Ten)
I treat you like my kin, I know you out here tryna win (You tryna win)
So hustle up (Hustle), hustle up (Hustle)
Hustle up (Hustle), hustle up, yeah (Hustle)