30 gunners take you far, uh planning for no blemishes
I travel with dinar, pussy poppers; and no witnesses
Get murdered or disbarred; tell ya lawyers I'ma finish them
Sections with the Tzar, that's a channel for my dissidents
We gon' set the field up; I gotta Betsy to sew the shield up
I'ma kill the colonist juntas, this just the build up
You pussy, yea you know you punta; you f*cked the meal up
You can't tap dance in position; we brought the real up
Yea, I'm Frank the Bully, the Moulay you negus heard about
Grew up with merchants, they had us working the bird routes
Who let the word out, they let the church out
The Roman Bishop, the Feds listen, they searched out
Uh, I remember licks was either bricks or dirty shams
Back when fiends was tweaking, piping off with dirty cans
For 'bout five and a quarter to make a dirty grand
We renovated the mortar to hide the dirty hand
Watched his son play PlayStation right next to the weigh station
Will never weigh more or less, not a gram if it ain't sanctioned
Asked his shawty what her price is, she told me all her vices
Gave ya mother up in seconds, morning routes and all the night shifts
Now you know that you've been warned, I know that you're informed
Momma called and said them boys gave dirty looks at her salon