Catalina (feat. Lyfe Jennings)

Where is he?

Concentrate on the job, don't disturb the doctor

Yeah, word up

Who said we ain't the definition of exclusive shit?

Real rap, you know

Yeah, this is multi expensive rap here, brother

Word up, time to recreate the power

You know what it is, man, nothing but gangsta shit, baby

Let's go Doc, I need that prescription

Ayo, ayo

I grew up on the foul side, nickel bag vial side

Purple tops, two for fives

I had seven grams, outside with my eleven mans

On the corners with a pocket full of contrabands

Running up and down fire escapes, NARCs coming

Jump in the window, let your Nikes fly, hide the flakes

Guess up in the Hill it was real to me

What a **** would of did if you steal from me

All my life around drug ****, villains who want millions

**** with them hoodies on, with techs in the building

Mad fiends, bags of green, Gillette razors

Fly neighbors, all live blazers, designer jeans

That's why we live, **** need shit in their crib

Go broke, you gonna rope you a vic'

It's just full-time stragglers, **** try to take your place

And smile in your face, but still and all backstabbers

I was trying to get home

Leave a couple mil' to my kids when I'm gone

****, that ain't cologne, it's the smell of this money

I was trying to get home

'Cause I don't know when my karma gon' catch up

I don't know when the toilet gon' back up

And put me in some shit, that I can't get out of

Come on, bags of money, trying to stay rich and fly

Keep it cool, silks and dungarees

Crew glasses and food, grilled salmon trying to make a move

Those who knowing they be dapping they dudes

How it do, blow a lot of cruise, stay in the cut

Pacing, from here to L.A., and Hawaii and Cuba

Blew new uzi too, serial numbers is brail

So when you rub against it feel all twos

Now I'm with some special ****

Next level **** with rubble bezzles

Who drive Exeleros with jewels

Brolic boots on, olive Goose, calamari soups and noodles

That spell out, ya'll **** the truth

What it is baby boy, reclining in the big Benz

La-Z-Boy, ends uped, lenses on, chips a'hoy

Shipping triple, **** try to stop the issue

And cock blocked but can't stop the official, what

I was trying to get home

Leave a couple mil' to my kids when I'm gone

****, that ain't cologne, it's the smell of this money

I was trying to get home

'Cause I don't know when my karma gon' catch up

I don't know when the toilet gon' back up

And put me in some shit, that I can't get out of

I was trying to get home

Leave a couple mil' to my kids when I'm gone

****, that ain't cologne, it's the smell of this money

I was trying to get home

'Cause I don't know when my karma gon' catch up

I don't know when the toilet gon' back up

And put me in some shit, that I can't get out of

Yeah, for real, man

Word up, we gon' keep it official

We gon' make sure ya'll get that raw shit man, yeah

Compliments of my ****, yeah, yeah, Dre

This is powerful, baby, we gon' take 'em there, man

Locomotive, bulletproof fly shit, let's go