The Hospital (1971)

Actors

• Lenny Baker (actor)
• Norman Berns (actor)
• Charles Bershatsky (actor)
• Roberts Blossom (actor)
• Lonnie Burr (actor)
• Jordan Charney (actor)
• Paddy Chayefsky (actor)
• Alex Colon (actor)
• Matthew Cowles (actor)
• Reid Cruickshanks (actor)
• Dennis Dugan (actor)
• Andrew Duncan (actor)
• Richard Dysart (actor)
• Stephen Elliott (actor)
• Robert Anthony (actor)

Genres

• Comedy
• Drama
• Mystery

Taglines:

Madness, Murder and Malpractice.
Watch them operate!
I may be crazy, but I think I've operated on the wrong patient.
Behind the lab coat beats the heart of a man who's been pushed to the edge.

Quotes:

Edmund Drummond: So at 9:15 this morning I rang for my nurse...::Bock: Rang for your nurse?::Edmund Drummond: To ensure one full hour of uninterrupted privacy.::Bock: Good.

Herbert Bock: I mean, where do you train your nurses, Mrs. Christie - Dachau?

Herbert Bock: Now what in hell am I going to tell this boy Schaefer's parents? That a substitute nurse assassinated him because she couldn't tell the doctors from the patients on the floor?

Herbert Bock: We've established the most enormous medical entity ever conceived... and people are sicker than ever. We cure nothing! We heal nothing!

Herbert Bock: You know, when I say impotent, I don't mean merely limp. When I say impotent, I mean I've lost even my desire to work. That's a hell of a lot more primal passion than sex. I've lost my reason for being... my purpose. The only thing I ever truly loved.

Edmund Drummond: I am the fool for Christ, and Paraclete of Caborca.

Barbara: I have a thing about middle-aged men.::Bock: I admire your candor.::Barbara: You've been admiring a lot more than that.

Barbara: It's hard for me to take your despair very seriously, Doctor. You obviously enjoy it so much.

Herbert Bock: It is all rubbish isn't it. I mean... transplants, anti-bodies, we can produce birth ectogenetically, we can clone people like carrots, and half the kids in this ghetto haven't been inoculated for polio. We have established an enormous medical entity and we're sicker than ever. We cure nothing! We heal, nothing! The whole goddamn wretched world, strangulating in front of our eyes.

Edmund Drummond: This is Dr. Ives. He's in the Nephrology Lab. I was in there a little while ago, and he was suddenly taken ill, and I thought I'd better get him over here right away. He had at that time perhaps an hour to live. Prompt treatment would have saved his life. As a staff doctor, he was seen without preliminaries... His vital signs were taken, an electrocardiogram... which revealed occasional ventricular premature contractions. An intern took his history... and then he was promptly... simply... forgotten to death.

• Lyrics: play full screen play karaoke
• She Don't Want A Man - Currensy
• Privacy Glass - Currensy
• Still - Currensy
• She's On My Mind - Currensy
• Role Model - Currensy
• Rain Delay - Currensy
• That Ain't Right - Currensy
• Success Is My Cologne - Currensy
• Smoke Break - Currensy
• Showroom - Currensy
• Scottie Pippen - Currensy
• Run Dat Shit - Currensy
• Reset - Currensy
• Raps & Hustles - Currensy
• The Candy Lady's Crib - Currensy
• That's The Thing - Currensy
• Televised - Currensy
• Summer Reading List - Currensy
• Soundtrack To Success - Currensy
• Smoke Sumthin (remix) - Currensy
• Skybourne - Currensy
• Silence - Currensy
• Blood, Sweat & Gears - Currensy
• Seat Change - Currensy
• Scaling The Building - Currensy
• Sail On - Currensy
• Blown Away - Currensy
• Roasted - Currensy
• Real Estates - Currensy
• Reagan Era - Currensy
• The Day - Currensy
• Hennessy Beach - Currensy
• Get Paid - Currensy
• Full Metal - Currensy
• Frosty - Currensy
• You See It - Currensy
• Woh - Currensy
• What's What - Currensy
• What It Look Like - Currensy
• Ventilation - Currensy
• Twistin Stank (hard In The Paint Freestyle) - Currensy
• Breakfast - Currensy
• Top Of The Money - Currensy
• This Is The Life - Currensy
• They Shook - Currensy
• The Type - Currensy
• Double 07 - Currensy
• The Pledge (in And Out) - Currensy
• The Hangover - Currensy
• Prioritize - Currensy

[Verse 1]
She was a little red Corvette, fast as hell, turned heads on the set
Pretty skin, soft voice, asking for rough sex
Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets,
This particular evening she wanted to ride jets
Even though I now shawty was bad news, I played it cool
Vowing to never turn sucker like them other dudes
Misreading signals, attachment issues,
Getting way too into the grip of the vagina lips
Got homies searching for relationships,
She not tryna hear my type of bitch
She ran a story to me over grape juice and ciroc sips
Married to a doctor, cuddle master
Don’t f-ck her just buy her her anything tryna satisfy her
On the low, she f-cking his partners, feel her boys inside her
Cause she weren’t f-cking with a rider
[Chorus]
She don’t want a man, she just wanna f-ck
She don’t want a man, she just wanna f-ck
She don’t want a man, she just wanna f-ck
He tell balance the check book, I tell her roll the weed up
She don’t want a man, she just wanna f-ck
He tell her to drop his kids over, I tell her pick my homies up
She don’t want a man, she just wanna f-ck
[Verse 2]
From talking it out to the parking lot
From the parking lot to my safe house
Tommy Vercetti, Spitta Andretti, this is New Jack City
Most bitches aint ready
But Shawty aint tripping, she was living already
My f-ck game impressive so she come back steady.
The shit, while heavy I can carry it
Cant get too far I mean this isnt marriage bitch
She roll doobies as I paddle shift
We f-ck, watch movies, end up getting too groovy
And then we smash again, she talking about him
How she feel bad about feeling so good, by giving me the ass
Bout how if she could, she a tell a nigga everything to get it off her chest
But she don’t want see him, man,
Collecting her underwear from the rooms of my pad
She got dressed and left in a flash
But she saying she be back!
[Chorus]
She don’t want a man, she just wanna f-ck
She don’t want a man, she just wanna f-ck
She don’t want a man, she just wanna f-ck
He tell balance the check book, I tell her roll the weed up
She don’t want a man, she just wanna f-ck
He tell her to drop his kids over, I tell her pick my homies up
She don’t want a man, she just wanna f-ck
[Verse 3]
Couple days roll by, Shawty callin’ askin’ if I have time
To put a couple in the air I was like, yeah
We could fly ? theres plenty over here
She fell through like always
We broke it down in the hallway
She bossed her way back she dont crawl her way
Her body designed Frank Cartier
Say something talking heavy on her heart today
Telling her the situation is wrong and she should walk away
Cause her feelings was coming into play
Affecting her home life in all kinda ways
Her man askin her whats wrong she don’t know what to say,
But she do got a union to save
But she in love with the lust that we’ve made
She had far too much she could say
That f-cking me was a perfect mistake
[Chorus]
She don’t want a man, she just wanna f-ck
She don’t want a man, she just wanna f-ck
She don’t want a man, she just wanna f-ck
He tell balance the check book, I tell her roll the weed up
She don’t want a man, she just wanna f-ck
He tell her to drop his kids over, I tell her pick my homies up

privacy glass, down halfway, reflections cast
on office buildings as i pass
bitch feeling some kind of way
sitting right next to me thinking 'bout what's next with me
intimidated by the playaness, ain't no how to say the shit she texted me

[Verse 1: Curren$y]
About to land jets on some suckers houses
Homie come about it that side shit
You call your girl crib in the background she bumping my shit
You mad I'm at the crib cutting open vacuum bags
Pouring some of that potent for the true smoking shit my homie had
Last time I was in Cali told him he had to send me that
Ship it to the city, so I could bend some corners
With lil mama tell them hit some of this sticky with me
Just being around me make her slippery, sexy pajamas when she visit me
Her friends fall through, with louder that, over talking, baller stalking
Search for eye contact so they could double back and ass g
When I got some time free, but honestly
Building this empire taking a lot of me
It will be worth it though, shit good right now you found my lighter
And my grinder it be perfect ho
And it's still, and it's still jets at yo motherfuckin
[Verse 2: Trademark]
And I stand here, g'd up from the feet up
Paper on my mind, my chick scrolling that weed up
Baby smoke it all, I ain't tripping I just reup
She thought real niggers was dead I made her a believer
Now she us, we a different breed
Come planning from a different species
Young bred to keep it
My life is like a movie but I'm living out the scenes
I'm pulling x for the rex I'm all about the cream
By any means a hustling scheme will fulfill my dreams
A better living fatter pockets, prettier women
Super sticky weed I'm puffing late up in the villa
South beach suite metropost smoking and chilling
Waiting on my bitch to come through with some more killer
Hit her with the Deals she in love with the villain
But my mind focus on writing raps and chopping spinach
Can I get a witness to this g shit that I'm spitting
At Will, it's still, it's still, jets at yo motherfuckin
Already
[Verse 3: Young Roddy]
Ok, girl, where shall I begin?
I told her about my lifestyle she said I'm all in
She say most niggers change you ain't nothing like them
So I got her high as hell, I'm talking about the rim
But I never cared, mama blow it in the wind
Ain't too much changed since back then
But now I got a couple different ways to make my ends
They wouldn't last a minute if they'd live where I live
They couldn't walk a mile in these jordans number 10's
And I got that shit off like think you come again
Such a scary risk but that risk got me rich
So need what my cash for that's word to money mitch
I swear I'm bound to break that bed when I get it in
Haters know the set that I rep to the end
It's crazy I keep hearing voices in my ear, telling me to get paid
My reply bet I will and it's still, it's still

[Verse 1:]
Bottles pop, joints roll
With my folks, in the whip
Section of the club with my eyes on this model chick
I don't know who she came with
She look like someone famous
She knew every word to my song when the dj played it
I asked her what her name is
She smiled when she said it
Right now I don't remember but it sounded like somethin spanish
I offered her champagne and she told me she don't drank it
I told her I wanna see her naked
She said lil boy who u playin with
My next thought was ok then
I'm obviously dealin with a lady
I apologized for my statement
And we kept on conversatin
She noticed we was blazin
She took a couple puffs of the haze and
She rolled her numba on napkin
And after that she vanished
[Chorus:]
Now, she on my mind
Can't get this bitch off my mind
She on my mind can't get this bitch off my mind
The shit affectin my rhymes
I'm havin trouble memorizin my lines
Cause this bitch on my mind
Gotta get this bitch off my mind
[Verse 2:]
Now I'm outside of the club
Me and my homies all fucked up
Tipped valet, hopped back in the truck
Whole ride home I was thinkin bout her
Thought bout callin her but I didn't
I didn't wanna call round all my niggas
Cause they drunk asses will be laughin an gigglin
And I ain't in the mood for all that ribbon
I just waited till I made it to the crib and
Attempted to call while watchin television
Wack ass cellphone trippin
Only get the strong signal when I'm in the kitchen
Walked in and dialed them digits
While the phone ringin
I'm thinkin bout her in different positions
Answer machine, voice sound different
Thank you for callin popeyes chicken?
Bitch get off my mind
Gotta get that bitch off my mind
Bitch Get off my mind
Gotta get this bitch off my mind
This bitch wasn't even that fine
I only seen this bitch one time
Why I got this bitch on my mine

Uh...
Nothing but...
Tell the truth, do I?
I been in the game, OG
Seen fools blow up and blow it, you know it
Prophetized by the perpetually high poet
I been thru it so free game I got to throw it to the listeners
Gifted in the art of deciphering rhymes
Conjured up in the confines of a powerful mind
Between the cars and broads, you're sure to find
The story of a man who drew his own guidelines
Inspirational, ain't it?
The way shorty set his goals tall and attained'em
Professional brushstrokes on canvasses
Finger-painting amateurs, can't handle it you do best to stay in your pajamas, kid
Blew my high when you came in with them cameras
Questions and peanut gallery suggestions
I hear some drummers comin' from your section, that's cool
But we got our own beat to walk to, fool!
Uh, drinkin' from the lemonade bottle
Tell the truth, do I look like a role model?
To the kid that chose me to follow...
Life ain't nothin but bitches and Impalas
I'm, drinkin' from the lemonade bottle
Now tell the truth, do I look like a role model?
To the kid that chose me to follow...
Life ain't nothin but bitches and Impalas
Nigga! Life ain't nothin' but bitches and Impalas, yea
Lyin' ass bitches, thievin' ass partners...
To the kid that chose me to follow,
Life ain't nothin' but bitches and Impalas

[Verse 1: Curren$y]
Dedicated to the Winners and the Losers
To the night De-bo got knocked fuck out
N Red got back his beach cruiser
I'm jet livin for the day to make em pay
This revenge served cold on a doobie ashtray
My eyes and my windows open halfway
I'm livin in a matinee early
See me tho fashionably late and you nervous
Mad outta place
You pretendin to be comfortable it's showin on yo face
And them niggas that you think holdin you down jus lookin for cake
And they'll accept from whoever got a slice on they plate
Fall in like rain
Befriended and betrayed
All in all viciously bitten by niggas u was jus callin yo dogs
And it was all good jus a week ago
Chillin by dem freaky hoes, feet kicked up
When you shoulda been on yo toes
Stay high
Kill em with the flow
These new, fresha than yo easter clothers
I ain't trippin off nann nigga to each his own
So ignore my grass tend to ya own home homes
Might pick my hair til it's Puffy, no Combs
Fuckin bitches that won't let u make it out the friend zone
Ice Water, Tall Glasses take it in
It goes down like nails if you frail
Jet fuel
Labortory reported it burned thru the test tube
Tearin thru yo rag toproof while u at the drive thru waitin on that slow ass fast food
Alan from the sky foo
[Verse 2: Curren$y]
8: 50
Bird shit on the windshield hit the wipers
Mother natures cryin
Harmonizin
Homiide ridin on these tracks
Think when DoeBoy caught the fools who killed Ricky
Them niggas was lunchin
Slippin
Monsta told DoeBoy "Cut the lights nigga! "
My watch is on grind time word to mic Bigga
This here is a digital track
(W) rap on these bitches
On computers like laptop stickas
Light pressure on these suckas means it's drizzlin
Feelin like pennies fallin from the roof of the empire state buildin
High velocity
I'm high off broccoli
In Cali with a license, got plants on property
Watchin me
Tryna copy me
Showin my pics to yo stylists like "Buy this outfit for me"
But the clothes don't make the man, a man made them pants
His flight leave at 8 and at 9 my plane land
Ain't that grand?
I got pounds of weed and a plan
To let you suckas kno who the mutha fuckin...
Ah man
Bad weather
And that shelter won't help ya
Sink, swim or swelter
Temperature risin, so is the water level

[Curren$y: Talking]
Tru Records exclusive, Curren$y Da Hott Spitta & XL
Action packed nigga get your cassettes ready
It's about to go down like this here
Uh, uh, these niggas keep hatin, that ain't right though
I'm a throw it down like this here
[Curren$y:]
Now I ain't trying to take over the game
I'm just trying to get a Range Rover and a couple of chains
I got a X-ed out college bitch giving me brains
Gave her my e-mail address and an alias name
And they tell me take it easy but I can't help it
I want more green than the Boston Celtics
Let a tru nigga breathe don't be selfish
Bet on hot spitta competition getting delt with
Hollerin bout you totin guns
But I see you with no straps like low-top Air Force Ones
And U hollerin bout money ain't got no funds
And U rappin on beats using pots for ya drums
And you'll never see me with ya bitch
Oh I got the hoe with me, you just can't see through the tint
And I'm beggin ya dog please don't quit rappin
If you quit rappin I quit laughin
[Chorus: x2]
Don't wanna see us with no paper ha (that ain't right)
Don't wanna see us niggas make it ha (that ain't right)
I ain't gon call you a hater dog (cause that ain't nice)
Just let a nigga breathe in the game aight
[Curren$y:]
I got a flat so I had to leave the V in the garage
And X see the bar on his Bentley?
Headin to the spa for a weekly massage
Me, ya lady, and ya sister do minagé trios
And I just copped two Porsches
And the dashboard got more wood than the Evergreen Forest
Pull up on the block, two glocks two torches
Shorty too hot like papa bear's poridge
Talkin bout you pop caps to wet me
The only cap you pop is off a bottle of Pepsi
I got enough waves for you to ride on jet skis
And fuck a bodyguard I let the tech protect me
Hell in a black end male with white break lights
Known for spittin raps out like that on tapes right
Say you got skills ha bitch keep frontin
And I'll carve ya face up like a Halloween Pumpkin
[Chorus]
[XL:]
I guess I ain't supposed to spit
You probably want me locked off in the back so you can hush my shit
You probably thinkin is C wrong for this
But XL ain't just a name known for production and shit
If ain't nothing else, I'm never ya bitch
Lyrically I'm hot, like the different color paint on my six
And if y'all really ain't on my shit, it's cool
Cause that ain't right
I guess I know you better than me
You probably a pimp who get the pussy wetter than me
You probably a thug with more ice and cheddar than me
Fuck that if I was you I'd be better than me
Ya bitch you, you better be better than me
You're probably right, that ain't right
Naw dog, not on your life
You're better off trying to fuck with a dike
If you smart why you sound so dumb on the mic
You can't fuck with my beats let alone what I write
My click, or the fact that we tight
It ain't us, ya'll ain't doin it right
I ruined it right
A producer that ruined your life
Aw fuck it they done gave me a mic
[Curren$y:]
That ain't right [x16]

You should be rolling up by now
Knowing I'm a look
Cool in them
Black and white pictures
When they talk about
Underground rappers
Gettin high and making history
I'm sick and tired these niggaz
Claiming they as sick as me
They lying I checked your chart
Your file saying you soft
Something fishy hoe nigga
You more bass then boss
Off the boat small fries
And stowaways get tossed
Can't party on the shore with us fool
Get yo floaties up, kiddy pool nigga
Ain't really that cool
Can't follow these moves
You need more expensive shoes
Working out smoking strong
On a week long cruise
Bonfire with theses bitches
Singing songs to the moon
Too high to judge
Call my ex bitch that did foul shit
Fuck her brains out and settle the grudge
Back shot revenge style, ain't no love
Light grub, roll up after a quick scrub
Cover my tracks don't let my bitch know where I was
Sticking to the script thought I'm improvising a bit
Same as my OG's but I put the Jets in the mix
Classic like Eddie Murphy's SNL skits
Dead stock tissue in the box elephant print
On my flint 13's, no retro 3m reflective
Ya bitch tight recklessing my DM's
Sexting tryna see him
Smoke a J where he being but I got no time for company
I'm building one of them hunny

Featuring: Curren$y
You should be rolling up by now
Locate your lighters
It's prime time
It's mister go left from the bitch
Who can't find her right mind
I'm squeaking past a yellow light
Doin 65, hope that wasn't one of them camera joints
Traffic eyes in the sky
I'm kind of high
What you done twisted
I'm used to that killer shit
So I maintain my pimping
While you're over high and slizzered
And I'm laughin at you slipping
And your bitch feeling disgusted and miserable
She is like why is she even here with you
I'm puttin air in my inner tubes
Black mags on my Haro hanging from the wall
The allure of my home decor
Got these girls tripping
And frequently speaking of return visits
A time machine my lyrics
The same things for my garage dawg
You see what I just put in it
We try'n to compete with them Nascars
You noticing that the stylin got switched up
Cause the last one got bit up
Yeah lil homie y'all can get down
But I bet y'all can't keep up
This Jet Life ain't for everybody
This shit is reserved for us
Yeah lil homie y'all can get down
But I bet y'all can't keep up
The stylin got switched up
Cause the last one got bit up
Yeah lil homie y'all can get down
But I bet y'all can't keep up
Yeah lil homie y'all can get down

[Verse 1]
Yea, when the speedometer reads 70 miles per hour
A spoiler is deployed from the trunk
Less wind resistance, more power
You ain't sat in nothing like this once (niggaa)
Fresh from the pages of Car & Driver
To the possession of high pilots
File it in my collection
With the rest of my shit
Up-to-date bill sheets, documented mileage
Handbook in the console I know everything about it
Got yo woman wet, she need goggles
See me on the set, I'm the picture of survival
Live in the flesh, dropping bombs on my rivals
We the motherfucking JETS
You just motherfucking clown shoes
Borrowing ya big homie jewelry shooting virals
Never wheeling them cars, just standing by them
Not really knowing them broads, just standing by them
No first class tickets, you just buy the stand-by ones
I'm adding dollars, you admiring
I'm Words With Friends whole time in-flight wireless
Email full of condo prices
Marble or granite, kitchen islands
Home stylings
[Hook]
Got a mill out the deal I'm still on the grind
(JET life on these niggas yeah)
Got 10 more coming just give me some time
(JET life on them bitches yeah)
Putting it all together got something in mind
(JET life on them niggas yeah)
Show them better than I can tell them they gon feel me
[Verse 2]
Show them better than I can tell em they gon' feel me
Niggas I came up with changing up say they gone kill me
If they ever catch me slipping
I don't give a fuck, sincerely
I know they just emotional, they love me, they fear me
They like my women, they see me steering, wish they was in it
Jealousy, just feeding em negative energy
I put my hands together praying for my friend-emies
Only let paper chasers dwell in this vicinity
Can't violate the JET code without penalty
Even family get let go "Fredo, you killing me"
I work hard, bloggers thinking that it's 10 of me
Dropping record after record like them bitches slippery
I like nice shit and I know how to get it
Hustle dumbass, it's not rocket science or Quantum Physics
Get on task fool, Trap til a trillion
Wrote these raps in New Orleans and performed them in New Zealand
Word to Pusha T and that's legal drug dealing
"My God", what a feeling
Italian engineering, Decepticon ceilings
Push button disappearing when the drizzle clearing
I'll probably be laid in the enclave, until then
Jet miss in the kitchen grilling up steaks
It'll smell like Ruth's Chris in a minute fool, you want a plate?
The hero unsung when I'm done they'll say I'm great

[Verse 1 - Currensy]
Showing no signs of letting up
Still kick you in the head like I think
You on the verge of getting up
No mercy, Cobra Kai, Cobra commando
Deadly venom spitting, n-ggas just a salamander
I'm living the life worthy capturing on camera, documented
How one of the last lives was deaded
How I rolled up in the drop, how I rolled up that sticky
How I rolled with them women, elegant player, no sippin'
How I f*ck them to sleep?
How I woke up out the building when I was finished
Keep it G, them n-ggas not original they muthaf-cking house of mirrors
Not quite the image, I'm on that Popeye spinach
Mama mai-tai sippin, she loves a square n-gga
But now she trying something different
Windy City Bulls, mention the Nets, wool jackets and sweats, Scottie Pippens
My description, high of that fuzzy green prescription
Lying if I said that I isn't
If you looking for that n-gga: I is him
All eyes in this direction, a burden and a blessing
[Freddie Gibbs]
Reporting live from the devil's pad
Breakfast here: two titties, two plus and a turkey bacon sandwich
2 seeds with eggs and bread jelly
My hoes they rarely pop that p-ssy,
They put off in my Pontiac on Pirellis '82 edition
Spotters body squatting on sixes?
Rather be counting stacks than stuck in the county, washing the dishes
Or washing drawers in the pen?
I had to go pay the correct correctional officer to walk him in
Bail money on debt, come at my neck
Plus that boy cause that same place where him? where he slept
I issue eternal rest, sign up and be a subscriber
The price of life that's so high that I must make sure I stay higher
Stay with the purp out of piso?
Smacking as deep as needles
They run in the rock just like I play quarterback for the eagles
Rando donovan in the mic a
'Fore I picked up this mic I was hitting licks
Did dirt with plenty disciples
I'm gang bang affiliated, federal investigated, self educated
All my co-conspirators catching cases
I got straight out of college and I made it at home?
But believe I got the balls to clear up all of my altercations
Leave faces with operations, closed casket console
Tryna make million dollars, f-ck a million downloads
But if that equal the same, smash it up and give me my change
I made a lane up in this game so n-ggas goin' remember the name
Gangsta Gibbs ho, two bitches cooking in the crib hoe
Still push a bucket but I ride it like a Benz hoe
Tryna find a bridge ho, to slanging raps, from slanging weight

[Hook:]
When I'm off in the zone my niggas tellin me run dat shit
Run dat shit
Run dat shit
When I'm off in the zone my niggas tellin me
[Verse 1:]
Shit for high priced SUVs
Long nights palm trees
Cuff link sleeves
Them niggas ain't these
Extraordinary gentleman
This is the league
Wrinkle free
Pimpin my stocks crate like 915
Jet cole make watergate look like a hair-brain scheme
Your hoes wanna be taken no leaving this [?]
And on the scene
Blue waters
White sands
Sticky green
Enough niggas talk shit
Jet niggas talk rich
Porches, fortress, horses afford this
Then try step up
Ya'll got me messed up
Basketball shorts on red carpet
My girl dressed up, and I'm coolin
I'm just at the premier cause my homeboy was in the movie
I would be hoopin on my front yard point guard shit
With my neighbors son OG shit I do cause I truly am one
[Hook]
[Verse 2:]
And they still trying to build that case
Want me to pay for murdering all these tapes
What can I say it's still money over bitches
We stick to the script here
Magazine pictures
Credit every stitch that I wear
Never been one of those caught up in the fab
They say it's out of style
I bring that shit back
Designers know it makes sense to chop it and burn hash
And let me skim through their next season sketch pad
I'm never mad
Just mad high my guy
From this altitude you wipe a doves tears when they cry
The forefather of the fly
No paternity test your style got my eyes left
And it's Jets til the motherfucking next
Life
So sweet candy stripes on my Vette
If I say it I show it
You think I get it for free how I smoke it
My dude wanted loot but he tossed me a few free O's and shit
All these rappers need is a hook to go and fish
For crappy deals but I'm way too real
Muthafuckas kept half assing until
Warner Bros. came to the table
With the table
Now there's room for my whole set
Now my niggas able
Eat til we got the itis
Bitch we on fire
Marlo on the screen yeah bitch we on the wire