Tropicana Bar$ Lyrics

I got expensive cash habits I'm making money the vanish

Get it back in a panic... stacking it be my habit

Spitting Tropicana bars...destroying the avatars

Put my hands up to Mars, thoughts shooting for the stars

One deep when I'm chilling I never bothered nobody

rolling solo in a foreign with a futuristic body

Do tell, thoughts spin like Sprewell's

Imaginary players sautéed and cooked well

Slim fit tailor made 90 degrees rocking the player shades

Cargo shorts and Jordan Gatorades

Never been afraid these one for the books

I'm in the booth James Harden Apron on bout to cook

My boy Trav in the couldersack used to sell the coldest sacks

Swerving through traffic, Candied Apple colored Cadillac

I ain't scared really of you niggas word to Bernie Mack

Das effect style on you boys spitting that critici crack

I got expensive cash habits I'm making money the vanish

Get it back in a panic stacking it be my habit

Spitting Tropicana bars destroying the avatars

Put my hands up to Mars, thoughts shooting for the stars

Mobb Deep leave em shook do it with finesse

Left hand jab step finger roll Travis Best

Got them lames in the cut trying to knock me off my square

Sat down studied tape so I'm well prepared

Captivate my audience lines sticking like poly grip

Warning shots no accident, 40 cal with the rubber grip

Well convinced that your boy overlooke

Black and mild smoke em out 5 fingers he mushed

Hit the Heisman on em no mercy for my opponents

White flag huh man these boys really don't want it

Red cup full of ice, Long Island delight

Dime piece on them daiquiris about to be a cool night

40 below still kicking cold flows

Kenny Duke leaving em Still aisle 7 Sta Flow

Paint a perfect picture like pearl jobs at maaco

You boys full of crap like Shepard's pie and gumbo