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$999,999 + $1 = A Mealticket

Huh? Want me to speak the real?

Speak the real man

Nigga, speak the real

Speak the real

Speak the real

Speak the real

Speak the real

It's a quarter after nine on my AM, FM

Radio Shack, digital motel, six o’ clock alarm reads

"40, get your ass up, time to hit the grind

You can't afford to pass no money, I know you heard about that"

What, what? "Task raided Millersville, Ms. Miller had a heart attack"

Dude, that's some cold shit, ain't it huh?

I know, she was a good person for certain I know

V-Town, California, where I was born, raised and grown

And since 1979, I been a hustler on the go

You know the drill, my mission for real, a mealticket

You feel, we slowly but surely approachin' seven digits

Figurines, sticky doo hicky and Angel Dust

Mescaline, niggas know better than fuck with us

I'm pimped out flossin' in Reno in the casino

Big bid, fuckin' off feddie, I could've put down on a crib

I does that, I do, rejuvenate, redeem

Take a lose, take a lose don't make a scene

Nigga charge it to the triple beam, fuck the stress

I let that orange box of baking soda do the rest

Holler at my neighborhood chef, Raul

Known for cloning chickens and turning one into two

That's what he do for a living, that's all he's used to

Playtex rubber dish washing gloves and residue, biotch

Bullshit ain't nothin'

You see we gone keep this thuggin'

And mean muggin', jump until it's a done deal

You see E-40 and Sick Wid, it bring the real, nothin' but

What if I bring this back down?

Which one, which one cap'n?

You got to be about it or be without it

Be about it or without it, ay, you know what?

I smell you on that playboy, look

We fin to run down a whole tac on these bitch ass, niggaz

Niggas ain't smellin' this shit, we do this shit

Last night I slapped a bitch upside her dome with my faulty phone

That Heifer's tired she tried to slash my tire

Caught me in the bed with her cousin Tanji

From the track she use to hold my sack

I use to dick her down

Way back in eighty-six she use to look just like a sketch

But now that bitch got a ass, tits, body and boy, that bitch is bad

For what it's worth, the pussy smelled like Certs

Victoria's Secret

Now folks, just remember, I never said I thought about lickin' pussy

I said I never thought about eatin' it

Keepin' it and treatin' it nice

Fuck that, I'm a hog

I put it down, I'm from the hood

Where I live on the outskirts of town on the tuck in the cut

In some empty apartments, man

I'm a baller so you know I ain't got shit in my name

I'm strictly ghetto celebrity, niggaz get buried

Ready for combat if you plottin' and plannin'

Oh if you come for me and confiscate my dough

Let the buzzer be the bail

But my suggestion is to stay within your envelope

I'm block to block, swingin' on vines

Community service, put up stop signs

Uhh, hold the fuck on

Did you or did you not tell these niggaz to stay within they envelope?

Shit, these toddlers is green to the game

They ain't know nothin' about these tramps

Six bedroom flats and gettin' dealt

And held a hand across the mat

You see we from the Yay, where we control they minds

And put these hoes on the grind

Ain't got to but I still touch it

Went to 7-Eleven, picked up a traders book

And bought a bucket

Use to have a perm taller than the Charlotte Hornets

But I had to cut that bitch off 'cause see your partna had warrant

That I ain't even handled yet, although I'm havin' cake

The little homie from the hood, want me to put out his tape

He kinda tight too, remind me of The Click crew

'Cause they was spittin' that old high powered

Godzilla ballin' guru, ass type shit you can relate to

Wake to, 'scape to when it's sunny

Ride by, slide by, get at a honey

I know these streets like I know my dick

I can tell you who the nigga is that's about to get jacked

And the nigga that pulled the lick

I got this bitch on lock

999,999 plus a dollar in a safe deposit box

Marijuana crops still in this roster

Kilogram, coca leaf and morphine

What about my niggas in the 415?

Look what they made

My niggaz in the city

They call it made

Top grade regeneration, uncut

Designer weed, straight hempilation, what the fuck?

Sheit, sheit, sheit sheit, sheit sheit, sheit

999,999 plus a dollar, plus a dollar man

Plus a dollar, plus a dollar, man, equals a mealticket bitch

Biotch, sheit, sheit, fuck it

Enjoy the lyrics !!!