So Harry-O out, huh? (yup)
Well, you tell 'em I said pull up on me
I got a sandwich bag for 'em (right, right, right)
(Right, right, yeah)

Never seen a bag that I ain't like
Lambchop with the doors off
Lil' bitch, you know I got a wife
As she proceed to take her clothes off
Self-driven, this the life I chose
My tunnel vision was somethin' like El Chopo's
Black Swan on my toes, watch for the potholes
I'd rather focus on how much water the pot holds
Started out breakin' records, now we breakin' records
Never thought I would be famous for my indiscretions
She up and down on my pole, but this ain't no election
I'm busy fuckin' the globe, bitch, I don't need protection
Correction, this my C-section, how ya livin'?
They makin' music but we on a different algorithm
Lookin' at life through a glass jar, cloudy vision
All I ever needed was one mic, Scottie Pippen

I thought I told niggas this come with the territory
New gold digger, that come with the territory
The lifestyles of the rich get dangerous
Some die with a name, others die nameless
I heard they plottin' on me, that come with the territory
Keep that thang on me, yeah, that's self-explanatory
But I ain't trippin', speakin' the truth will get you canceled fast
That's Dre drop, this type of talk come with a sandwich bag

I'm in this bitch with a double cup
She wanna smoke, lemme show you the ropes, double dutch
Time to level up, nigga, paper been long
Gators hangin' out the Lamb', Fred Flinstone
B-baller, s-shot caller
Twenty-inch blades and they on the Impala
So many years in the game, I done became a Rottweiler
Survivor, with motherfuckin' diamonds on my collar
Made nigga, fuck yo' advice, really got a billi' in my sights
Blowin Za', reachin' new heights
Buckle up, we 'bout to take flight
Cartier froze, just watch
VVs drippin' on Watts
FedEx, I'm beatin' up the box
Bad bitches, drop it like it's hot

I thought I told you niggas, this come with the territory
She a gold digger, that come with the territory
The lifestyles of a crip get dangerous
Some die with a name, others die nameless
I heard they plottin' on me, that come with the territory
I keep that rocket on me, yeah, that's self-explanatory
Tread light, homie, they don't understand the math
This real spill, this shit come with a sandwich bag

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): Calvin Broadus, Roosevelt III Harrell