Ahem, Mr. D. Carter
From out the deep water
Thank the Lord for my voice, the beat, and the recorder
Now pick an alphabet and you're Z'in'
While I'm up tryin' to be the best MC'in'
Now let me in, I got my key in
And with them alphabets, I never used P-E-N
But I gotta lotta paper
But a lot ain't enough, so I got an occupation
Gotta bring the bacon, straight to the kitchen table
Homie if your girl pregnant, you should kiss her naval
'Cause you probably won't live, to see the motherfuckin' cradle
Your past left a scar, and the future's lookin' fatal
You can't be sorry, you gotta be a savior
Gotta be the bread winner, so go rob the bread maker
When they put your homey to sleep, it's gotta be a wake up
You move in the hood, then you gotta meet the neighbors, damn

Hey, I holla, "Bitch get off me, bitch get off me"
I'm the little ass nigga, known as big homie
The killas is ballin', the niggas is targets
The snitches is talkin', but this is New Orleans
I love what I got, I'm just livin' the moment
I ain't dyin' just yet, I'll take a shit in the coffin
I already know how to piss in the toilet
I'm tryin' to get the pot to piss in in the mornin'
I never fall back, I'd rather go forward
And when I come through you betta duck like Howard
Because I got power, just like a forward
I come through the lane, and straight dunk like Stoude-
Mire, Amare reminds me of I, uh
He's a Phoenix Sun and I am fire
Disrespect and I spit fire
To your neck and back like you are Khia