Renegade - Fabolous, Paul Cain

Uh, you think I give a fuck about what these niggas say man

They even talked about Jesus

I ain’t mad at when it rain, cause I know the sun is somewhere shinin

Sorta like some clear diamonds

I hardly see my moms, but she know her son is somewhere grindin

Some where rhymin, or somewhere climbing

Out of a powder-blue 760, clouds of Blueberry sticky

Wit a handgun, to send these cowards to Heaven quickly

I ain’t pussy, so I won’t allow you to ever dick me

I know these greaseballs, wonder how could they ever stick me

But I move, like the President through town

Wit stones the size of earrings, in my Presidential crown

I put hollows from the Desert into clowns, cause the cemetary

Is where most of the dudes, that are hesitant are found

So I take the time, of whatever the bench throw

Before being put down in a seventy-two inch hole

Mean while getting adapted, to the fame has be hectic

But I’m fucking like I’m tryna take down Chamberlain’s record

And the girls more than like you, when you running run

Doing world tours like Michael, but girl’s sure don’t like you

You going on like thirty-six, flowin on some berry mix

The little money you get, you blowing on them dirty chicks

Tryna look young, so you throwing on the jersey quick

I’m on my second V-12, you going on ya third V-6

You can look at this rider, and see I’m on the come-up

Cause I pass the hitch-hikers, like I don’t see 'em with they thumb up

I just turn the system up and keep boppin

I never get, where I’m tryna go, if a nigga keep stoppin

And I tell the cops, this joint is for protection

Don’t they see when I come through, how these people point in my direction

That’s why I poke out my jeans, like my joint with a erection

Till I’m in a joint made for correction

And right now, the way rapper bi’ness spread

It wouldn’t even surprise me, if one of these rappers is a Fed, nigga

Since I’m in the position to get rich, I’mma get it

Whether it come from rapping on blocks, flipping and pitching

And fuck the stove, and the kitchen where I cook and prepare it

(Nigga you know) and don’t try to act like the truth ain’t apparent

I’m on a mission to get richer, it’s as simple as that

I make it obvious, when I pick up a pencil and rap

Like a .40 Cal, spittin on instrumentals I clap!

And these verses, are like the hollow point I sent through yo back

I get you murdered if I think you a wrap

Cause if you don’t show loyalty, then that show me where ya principles at

And you don’t know how much I been through, in fact

I never did like you, I ain’t even gon' pretend wit you cats

And I’m the nicest, I ain’t gotta say it twice and repeat it

I’m a lyrical genius, I never been beated, defeated

I’mma draw my weapon and squeeze it, you better believe it

Leave you parapaligic, I demand respect and I mean it

My Desert’s the meanest, you probably dead if you seen it

Or sprawled out somewhere sick, leakin' red on the cement

And I blow off ya head for no reason, and just when I’m leavin

You don’t know me ya on me homie, but the spread make us even, BLOAW!

And the bad part about it is man, haha

I’m only twenty years old man

And I’m just havin fun

Man I ain’t even tryin man

Desert Storm’s youngest, and in charge man

Paul Cain, man

Yo Fab man, you ain’t even gotta go hard man

I got these niggas man

Clue!

Holla at cha boy

Skatin Dolla

Duro!

it’s our year man

Desert Storm, we gon' kill niggas man

You already know what it is

It’s a ho’cide man

Stop «Street Dreamin»