[Verse 1 Prez] Uh Done more in 2010, than all last year Slow down son, you killin em, courtesy of Kashmere Courtesy of weed smokin, spliff tokin, bitch phonin Money blowin, this the reason why my damn pockets growin Got a belt round my waist, to keep my pants up Got a belt round my pockets, to keep them grams up So if you bobbin to this, then throw your hands up Prezidential powers allowin us to command ya Independent record labels be hollerin But I need that Kanye West money, so stop botherin No problemo, no problem You can get blown up or popped like a condom TD Bank rockin when them Cs roll through Im gettin change every day, like a toll booth I mix it up, like Southern Comfort and vermouth Haters love me, you forget what I told you? [Hook Prez] Catch me in the streets, aint a damn thing sweet Its the belly of the beast, aint nobody safe Run up on you with the heat, my babys gotta eat And killers dont sleep, homie show me where the safe Trust me, you dont want them problems Pull up on you with the treble and bass And mop the whole place, oh no, it aint safe It aint safe, round these parts
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