Old Boy Jon

[Intro]
Yo, pour that with 2 hands son
Shoes off, motherfucker
Here we go, yeh

[Verse 1]
Roll up to your function uninvited direspectfully
Never ran from anybody, ain’t no point in catching me
Got the cops sketching me, looking like a Vietnamese
Picture looking 8 bit, literally pixely
Got a squad Nepalese, Cats outta London
Made a pack that I hold em down packed till I'm hundred
All my project’s funded out my own damn pockets
Got my own Johnnie Cochran if I ever get bronson
Got getaway plans like I'm Jon Dillinger
Homie outta east coast working on them cylinders
Bounce in a blink of an eye just like a humming bird
Sparks like the fourth of july this ain't fireworks
Suitecase packed with givenchy
Women outta Mexico be calling me papi
Making Ceviche
Bring out the brief case
Big transactions with my dealer enrique
Bad chino, the great bambino the hint of van damn at least his damn ego
Porch full of pigeons to livein by the sea gulls
Hood of the hills whats lesser of two evils
Hosted by my brand new fireplace used to be the same place
I put my dry race
Now I got assistance reminding me my time and place
Chiefs in my kitchen, that are iron chef ranked
Talk about American dream, getting dollars was a scheme of this arrogant team
That took the words out the mariam and wrote sixteens
Sold a little coke but your boys still totally clean
New shit for the moms, furniture for the lawn she ain't never seen her son suited never went to prom
Lobster and steak with butter sauce on the prawns your fucking with the best now its old boy Jon