Opulence

[Intro: Slim Thug]
It's me bitch
Thugga

[Verse 1: Slim Thug]
I'm Boss Goldie
All the bad bitches know me
They pay me like they owe me
I'm looking at my rollie
And it just showed me it's about that time
For me to give a little game and get back on my grind
Money stay on my mind
Cause it stay on my line
They keep calling, I keep balling, all my bitches is dimes
Got them waiting in line, them square bitches is crying
Cause don't even look they way, they can't get no more time
I'm a pimp, in my own fucking rhyme
A pimp, in my own fucking rhyme, yes I'm
On the hunt for the paper
I can't see you broke haters
I'ma keep saying, "See you later" with them tags that's paper
New whip, new bitch, on my side when I drive
Talking about how to get this money before the sun rise
I used to sell bricks, now I'm selling hoes
Same thang, different game, it's like selling dope
My bitches got that comeback, they make them tricks come run back
And drop out some more stacks
No whip, I sit back and stack chips
Feel like I'm the living mack
Find boss Goldie, where the paper at?

[Verse 2: Le$]
305 small block with the numbers to match
Original everything you ain't fuckin with that
I ain't gotta drive fast boy I let them hoes see me
And most them fools hatin is the ones that wanna be me
Lamborghini on my mind so I'm turning up that grind
Better go and get them Ray Bans bitch I'm bout to shine
Or recline, getting head from a broad that used to diss me
Buncha unread texts hoes talkin bout they miss me
Plottin on a couple million while them suckas still sleep
Guess that's why we countin money and them fools count sheep
Do it like we wanna do it only bosses in my clique
Got that Isley Brothers playin' while I'm flossin' in my shit
I be coughin on that shit, but I'm rollin up some mo'
And this potion that I po' will probably have me movin slow
But I'm quick to the mula, I'm teaching em let me school ya
Try to pull some bull maneuver get rugers to your Medulla
Don't gotta be a shooter, that's something that I'm passed
Like a cone full of that grass, with a mix of that hash
Senoritas holla Chico, boy I told you ain't no equal
Couple knocks up on your door, put that choppa to your peephole
Let you see what I'm about
Have your lights turned out
Let your bitch meet my bitch, and I got her turned out
When them blunts burn out, bet we still gon' remain
Pimpin in this mothafucka she a victim to the game nigga