The 24th Hour (Intro) Lyrics

Hopping out the foreign

I ain't flexing though

ninety three, I'm blowing gas

I'm blowing Texaco

I been fucking up this money

Like I'm supposed to

Everything I drive exotic, and my hoes too

Running off of Zephyrhills and Russian Creams

Them peoples wanna kick it

I ain't trynna speak

I'm just caught up in my head lately

Only thing I wanna do is count the dead faces

Money make the model, I look like a check

I got tired of being modest, now I gotta flex

Dipped my fingers in that water, now my pinky wet

Ain't nobody going harder, I need my respect

You can't name another nigga hot as me

Popping since a youngin

Always knew I was a prodigy

They gon overlook me, but that shit don't ever bother me

I got my commas up, turned them bitches to apostrophes

Bitch I'm in that zone

I'm in my two, three

Only fuck with classy women

Not no groupies

I could never go out sad bout no hoochie

Rather go and get a bag, count the blue cheese

Cash over coochie

Yeah, yeah

Balling, balling, balling

Don't need no assist

Okay, okay

Heard that money calling I know who it is

I'm on my way

I got used to lavish, ain't no settling

Remember I ain't used to have it

Now I'm settled in

I don't do no cap raps

Ain't no lying I'm a tiger to these rap cats

I'm the hardest Rican rapping

That's a fat fact

Got your bitch all on my bicho

Take her back

She's a gnat gnat

Off of me

Ain't shit you could offer me

Got a solid circle

And some bitches who'll get off for me

Mix that with the skrilla and the drugs

The loyalty and love

And I'm good baby

I could change the block and make the hood wavy

Yeah, yeah