Styles P
True Ghost
[Intro]
Poobs would've love this strain

[Verse 1]
Fly n***as wearin' they Polo cuts
Take your flicks, throwin' the photos up
You can see the liquor through the Solo cup
The red or the blue one, homies got red rum
I cry for them and the newborns
A dark place in the bright lights
Watchin' Hidden Colors and (-)
Yeah, n***a do the knowledge
But I went to street college, so I cop it for the right price
Two and two is four, but if the fifth n***a roll
We gon' turn that four dollars into five doin' nightlife
Now go 'head and rewind that
No clothes, but you'll like my design - black
You can have a watch, but you never seen time-lapse
I'm a gangsta rapper, would you call this a crime rap?
Huh? Good question, ain't it?
My mind's a weapon, ain't it?
This shit I'm spittin' for the record, ain't it?
A minute longer than a second, ain't it?
Check it, now go 'head, do the countdown
Tell me who you count on
You could count money, but you can't count love
How you write the amount down?
Fuck it, just let me bounce now
Light in the plane, n***a, I'm outbound
[Outro]
Ghost, I'm out