Bellagio

[Verse 1: Jay Worthy] Lookin' at pics with G-pops and Joe Louis Vacant strip, '75 Caddies and old Buicks Always knew I'd make it one day, Bellagio music Tower suite, sippin' on Baileys and watchin' hoes move it Slow it down, sit on my lap, that's how the funks do it She giggle while I tickle her back, I'm smokin' whole Cubans Hotel slippers and robe, I'm in my own movie The one where the bad guy wins like Keyser Söze Never keep a girl for too long, stuck in my old ways Even though I fantasize about havin' a housemate Little kids runnin' around and missin' school days But then I realize I'm him, what a damn shame Low-down and dirty, ho, they call me P Worthy I make you walk the blade before you ever get my last naming I only like to do what make me feel happy That's why I bought my 50, that's why I roll active That's why I seek what's on my own albums like a soundtrack You hear Chris Tucker on "La Quinta"? Yeah, we did that Martin Scorsese with the pen, where the script at? Document my life from my raps 'cause I live that The only real one that's on the mic spittin' pimp facts And I'm from P-funk, but I could take you where the Ricks at Yeah, huh, yeah All the way from Figueroa to the land where Fillmore Slim at [Interlude: Conway the Machine] Huh Know how we ridin' (Look) Know how we slidin' [Verse 2: Conway the Machine] Look, quarter ticket for the wrist wrap (Uh-huh) I just want a Ferrari, bitch, I'm RiFF RAFF (Yeah) Testin' some new scatterbrain, I'm lovin' this batch (I like this one) Two different-color Cullinans, they mismatched (Boom) Bitch, who you workin' for? (Huh?) And one bitch brought me fifty thousand from MegaPersonals It's business, never personal (Hahaha) Can't find one bitch I'm payin' rent and buyin' purses for (Name her) I'm too busy buyin' mansions and convertibles (Look) Look at me speed off (Ooh) Masterpiece on my wrist, I lift my sleeve up (You see me, bitch) Cost me three-sixteen And the stones cold, bitch, Steve Austin, haha (Talk to 'em, nigga) Machine gone