(Verse 1)

Look around town, yeah I motherfucking zone

Got me looking for a bank, gotta get a fat loan

Gotta fucking hard crew, gotta mess of da plans, right, plans, right?

Cooking it up in the back of the van, spewing it out, you got it, you got it, you got it?

Guns cocked, and that watch clocked, and that road blocked, yo keep it right we the money mascot

Look to the future, flip it around, with that mask on

Focus up, no slips up, no mistakes or there’s no dough

No home, no friend, no fam, you slip up, bitch, and its motherfucking bars slam

(Verse 2)

Hands up, it’s note out, it’s get away with that motorbike from motorcade, no sign of a Place Beyond the Pine

Yo that breakdown speed, in that Town full of thieves

With deception and reputation, it’s who, where what and when perfect plan for an Inside Man

Keep it cool when the Heat on, faces on the floor while we cooking, put the scheme on

Money in the bag, shoving, marked bills no loving, running

It’s smoke and it’s bullets and metal, it’s fucking greed, never catch us on a settle

Never catch us, period, all gas, all pedal to the floor

Cooking up the plan till the money on the back make the motherfucking spine sore

(Verse 3)

Now, right, it’s cut it up with the homies, put a slice there, pound there, wolves with they canines showing, all doomed now for a bloody rip and tear

Antics all groomed for the next mix up, left muddy, nabbed money and stabbed honeys and clammed up yuppies dripping crimson on dollar bills

It’s leaving tills, vault bills giving it max thrills

It’s bleeding out these bloodsuckers, parasites, leeches, kicking it on beaches, raps sheets in the millions, scraps left for the “villains,” the empty bellies left behind, right?

Yeah but starving and cunning making one hell of a Mastermind