Description
I sold my soul to the devil, the price was cheap. It's 2 o' clock, I'm just about to hit the streets. Until I knock off this rock, I don't get to eat.My Expertise
And I'm robbin' bitches just as broke as myself. Fuckin' with Queens ain't too good for a bitch's health. Where's the wealth? It ain't in New York. I gots to make my rounds, do whatever for the dollar. You know me.
What turns me on
Sometimes, it's like that's the only reason why I hustle. Step on toes, strong-arm, show a little muscle. Ain't no real dough, that's why a bitch feel so frustrated, hate it, seeing bitches that made it.
Schedule
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