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(Hit-Boy, G. Ry got me) Ayo, Hit-Boy, man I need to roll up some of that fonto you got, man I be seeing you smoking Yo, how that I.E. weather? Uh Tilted brim like Goldie talking Pryor listening, my prior women had no remorse When they tried to end on no discourse, no discussion I'm all alone and all the people with the big hats on went home So what you gon' do now, Goldie? Your bottom left you It's up to me and you, Goldie, through introspection You ain't Goldie, you Nas, and my heart ain't cold as it was And I go through multiple love triangles over and over enough I talk to my boxing trainer, he's my logic explainer Conversations through our combination He told me, "Stick and move," and "Different rules apply to different women" Some women's into licking women Some women's independent, some women want brothers who educated Some women want Benz's, leather seats that are perforated Some do malevolent snake sh*t Yo, you can miss me with that fake sh*t (Peace king)
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