[Intro: Phat Kat]
Ronnie Cash
Carte Blanche
I told y'all it don't stop!
For real... yeah... Cold Steel
Show you how I get down, for real!
It's what you niggas'll get
[Verse 1: Phat Kat]
I told you every time I spit I'm on some classic shit
Ronnie Cash and J Dilla on some massive shit
While y'all niggas still fakin' on that plastic shit
We in the lab, cocked to bomb, straight blastin' shit
Or in my red Range changing lanes, passin' shit
Chicks at the lights, got 'em flashin' ass and tits
Call my wolves, niggas quick to have they asses bit
You know it's on when they pull up in them classic whips
Jumpin' out with long barrels with expansion clips
Now you silly niggas really know it's time to dip
Treat you like a broad, make you niggas dance and strip
You rappers need a style, I'm here to give you fashion tips
I'm in Belize having breakfast with the baddest bitch
Go 'head, smoke the bam', I blow the livest spliffs
Ronnie Cash, bitch, it don't get no liver than this
Carte Blanche, way beyond your fuckin' little guest list
Yes, it's...
[Hook: Phat Kat]
Cold steel – for real!
[Verse 2: Elzhi]
From cowboys to Indians, cops and robbers
Bloods and Crips, Bush to Saddam impostors
Slugs with clips contribute to the buck, the temps
In thugs and pimps, men moving they drugs for chips
They dug a ditch for little Leroy, he was only three
Cannons blowed, now it's stuffed animals on a tree
Froze from a stray bullet, though it beared no name
When it whistled through the air prepared for aim
What could make a man cock and squeeze
On a block with ease, pop through trees and knock the leaves
'Til somebody's shot and can't possibly breathe?
Possibly thieves that reach in your pockets for keys
Probably beef between rivalry gangs
Or dope fiends, full of coke dreams to get high through the veins
You got hitmen that's hired to slain, individuals [spraying]
Now they live below the flowers in spring
Hear them lead showers that "bprrrding!" from moving vehicles
You could read a few new leads to about the people who was killed
I'm chill when their plan reported
'Cause someone died the same way yesterday and before it
You can hide, fade away, be left to pray and ignore it
Cold!
[Verse 3: Phat Kat]
You phony rappers had your turn, now it's time to go
I'm here to bring you live shows with legitimate flows
You still weak rolling 50 deep, sweet as cinnamon rolls
The thang I bust'll lay you niggas flat, ten in a row
Ronnie Cash, stay on the low, gettin' that dough
I'm internet savvy, nigga! Watch my growth
I'm mastermindin' an' enterprisin' all types of shit
Whatever I write, ASCAP copyright my shit
They download me on the MP3 to bite my shit
While I sit back, roll my trees, re-light my spliff
I spit those Cristal flows, don't spit that Piper's, bitch!
I'm hittin' yo main girl, you still wifing that chick?!
Right before I blow my load, I put it right on her lips!
I compliment your taste, dawg, she got some marvelous tits
She coming home, kissin' you? Now that's some trifling shit!
The type of shit that make you wanna do some stifling shit
Like put ya hands around the chick neck and tighten the grip
You couldn't keep your cool, plus you couldn't follow the script
No money on your books got you washin' draws for ya chips
You used to be a boss, now you sport Kool-Aid on your lips (Cold steel!)
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