You keep the west side cold, it's not about a change in the weather
You show your cards I fold, I'm not about to lose my gold
I'm all about the tight grip, fat lip, I'll never let my knot slip, get lit, I get it quick
Don't let me be the first hit, won't fit, I never wanna see you just sit, I'm all about the dangerous tug
I'm on the east side now, I'm short on cash but I'm banking on my wit
'Cause when the flow slows down you can bet it'll hit the ground
When you hear that sound, tense up like it was sacred ground that you were walking on
Spirits that don't remember you