I knew this girl named Tropicana,
She’s always juicin’.
Producing cash for a sexual task.
She loves men that trick like Halloween and treat…
You ain’t paid? Then your grade is incomplete.
You gotta understand: I’m a man with needs that needs fulfilling.
And if you ain’t with it, somebody else is willing.
Let’s advance the game:
How many times can we rhyme about cars and chains?
How many bricks can a nigga really sell?
How many times can a nigga really go to jail?
How many murders can you do on one album?
Put ‘em together, must of did about a thousand.
I’m just saying, let’s change it up.
If not, nigga, hang it up.
Eat from the Tree of Life and throw away the verbal ham.