Funky Cowboy Meets the Funky Drummer

[Verse I]

I run my shit up at the clean hand shops off of Slauson

Flossing like my other than it reign supreme

Crown fitted, why would they think I wouldn't when I'm in it like

John Wooden with the cushion with the lean 'bout

One eighty, 'bout it like I bop a nigga bobble like, Bobby Knight

Mac Dowel type, ugh, you Donald, it's duck season

I'm hollow and buck often and - fallen off, I - often

Caught him in deep thought tonguing down a gold tooth

Old spice with the Pro Tool vocals

The old school with the home phone

The old post kept the hoes loose

[Chorus]

Now I run my shit up on the world

I run my shit up on the world, world, world

I run my shit up on the world

I run my shit up on the, ugh, on the world

[Verse II]

I run shit up at the clean hand shops off of Slauson

Flossing like my other than it reign supreme

And still boss

Why would they think I wasn't if I wasn't, fuck it

Still buzzing tilt Douglas on the sauce, it cost

One fifty to floss in one city for me

'Cause when you folks it's a different fee

I'm either seen with the clappers

Or children of Black Panthers, the queens

The Pink Panthers, black bitches on the scene, I mean

I never asked if you thought I was a wild boy

Sick with it, let my style poise, ugh

And niggas had to get up out of Illinois

Since Sider was Chi boy

[Chorus]

Now I run my shit up on the world

I run my shit up on the world, world, world

I run my shit up on the world

I run my shit up on the, ugh, on the world

[Verse III]

Ayo my money long, buddy long, but he slim, uh, yeah

The ghetto's right under that butter leather, but it's him

Once again, slim with the grin, tilted brim, spinning hubcaps

Ugh, fuck that, shitty bus paths

I crack a flask on that ass off a BMX, yup

Thin ass tires, letting my chains flare, yeah

Gold bitch it's always go, play the welfare

Chill chick I'm on a cell phone, cool kid, I'm on a bike bitch

Swoop a nigga for a have to kruga nigga, shit is dead

Bitches fled from the verse they rather give him head

83, black and soul pass electro gold

My shit shine, bitches it's always go

Fuck a shiny suit, still giving shiners

Don't blind 'em, closelining

The whole city behind him, aye