Gold plated dollar bills
At least that's how this shit feels
Tryna do this shit for real, what's the deal?
If I give my heart and my soul
Is up the direction I go?
Or am I sent below against my will?

Just trying to appeal to my generation
The same time I'm escaping
The cuffs that they put us in
Everything that you wish that you could've been
While you talk about the car you throw you're hood up in
Or how you busting lead with a wooden pen
No. 2, that ain't Lash Larue
That must be you
D.M.G designed the caskets for your crew

Outlaw persona bitch I'm Billy The Kid
Like LASH you really done all that you say that you did?

Rappers claiming that they real but they forget the definition
Real isn't revealing all of your criminal intentions
It's just staying true to you
Not forgetting the mission
Not for follows or mentions
But for that paper acquisition

Spread my ashes on a pile of money
All that power and fame, yeah I know that it's coming
I could hand you the mic, and you couldn't say nothing
Duct tape your mouth shut
I'm the one you don't fuck with

Riding with my team of bandits
And we hold the world for ransom
Need at least 10 karats

So I hold this beat hostage
What's my soul worth if I've got a golden conscious?