Ocean's 12
Weed rolled and hair twisted
I’m with, some need-to-knows and confidentials
She like, every flavor of that dress like a bottled Fanta
And that Casablanca off the coast, I gotta cop cabanas
All black sheets, but the silk is for romancing
Trying to touch the sky cause the ceiling’s for pole dancers
She ain’t gotta worry bout niggas with poor manners,
You touch her, you getting handled
Velvet gloves, with the iron hands in
More cameras and more gambles, the game switching
Only thing excite me is celebrations and competition
Only thing you fight is your own demons, I’m never in it
Rolls-Royce Phantoms is baseline, can’t waste time
Oh my, I go sober on these
Clearing my mind in Greece
Tabbouleh, Bible, hashish
Repeat
Fruit and wine, meditation all on the beach
A need
Desire higher than tight rope, it’s a risky business
Balance impatience and elevation, I’m still winning
Splitting time with my baby girl, and painting visions
Bob Ross the illustrations on my garment
Ocean’s Twelve the set, got all these cases pending on me, I swear
All of those is one of these, for real
Double O’s with triple 3’s, for real
License to kill, I’m ice in the veins
You ain’t got skin in this, real niggas is feeling the same
You ain’t got pen in this, real niggas put ink on the page
I get to bleeding, spilled feelings I leave on the page
It ain’t a grievance till real niggas is grieving your name,
Saying how they wish you never posted pretending you gang
damn shame
9 nights in the City of Angels did change us
Hidden Hills film in backyard of the rich and famous
All just to be the bad guys with good tailors
Pride is my currency, so my ego is inflated
Separate the real from the fake, fake from the real
Either I, came to collect, came just to kill
Real bar setter, forgive but never forgetter
Revenge served best with Sauvignon and bruschetta
And I ain’t sever ties, I just seven times the buy-in
And I ain’t with the spice, but I “Shake N Bake” the Cayenne
And I’m sending roses, coming home soon as I fly in
From Russia With Love, but all of that shit above me now
We hit Jon & Vinny’s, did a couple rounds
Cut my teeth on olive pits and talking money now
These days I’m like exactly who I thought I was
Franklin Saint, cause nothing keep me saner than the product does
More love to my niggas pushing the ‘cane
Bankers doing wholesale deals right in they face
Tony Montana and I got sum’n in common in the game
‘Cause we just want to look all of our idols in the face