Bakin' Soda In Minnesota

52 carat blue diamond

Rhymin', interior designin', grindin'

You can shake cheddar like me on the mic

Hit your point, hold your money when you're rollin' the dice, baby

Uhh.. either you go crash-and-burn

Or wake up in the morning with cash to earn, tiga

Check it homie get good with me

If just i can find your hood again

Who is that in the car? yo couldn't be

All the way out here, yeah Nicki t

Russian, get the weed sparked

Get the party started

And watch yo back fo the shark

Nigga cold-hearted

We got bakin soda

All the way down in minnesota

We got bakin soda

Down in minnesota

I got a fetish for Adidas, boss

But I betcha don't know what my Fila's cost, do ya

On chew, like dem baby pit bulls

And ain't no way you can touch my....cool

The 12th floor at the Marriot

You know, me and my tigaz chill there a lot

Fetti

I sit alone when the mic's on

With Tyson every time that the fight's on, kill 'em

I remember rhymes used to ride with nets

Flight at the midnight high with jets

You know Al Capone stretched tryi' to save the sets

And I'm teflon down, t shirts and gats

Rhymes you can taste, Rhymes, Rhymes galore

Rhymes you can buy at the candy store

You know who I am, I'm like credit card scam

Hot like soulfood, greens and yams

Extra-curricula, netting that riddicula

Hit the cloud like the bear or the fiddila

Shouldn've lied, I coulda been a good friend to ya

Now i got to get rid of ya

We got bakin soda

All the way down in minnesota

We got bakin soda

Down in minnesota

I told my mom somethin' that made her cry

Looked her in the eye and said rappers don't die

We not gonna have an' tour, but we gon get by

So most of us gonna be in hell high, kickin'

Now put the rhyme on a triple beam

Now rock it up, and chop it up,

And try to grind into triple cream

Don't get caught with the same scheme

Meaning don't get caught with the same thing, King

It's like you got to be bald

'cause hoes and niggaz wanna see you go far

I think they mad when I ticks them off

But I'm a hyena so i got to laugh and break some off

The hot wax that's real fatal

Sup'd up to perfection like a weapon on a turntable

They say Gretta's got a new baretta

And he'll be aiming his gat like a crooked letter, foreva

I hit the night like stormy weather

And if you brag about your freak, i'mma say mine's way better

I rotate like the hands of a clock

And find ways to make my rap beat all on your block

You better knock on the door tiga

And lay them all on the floor tiga

'cause i think they want more tiga

I blow em out like a flat tire

And hit the weed for Richard Pryor

Then call em all straight liars

The corks in me like the tail of a fox

So get the grease hot, nigga

Or your tigaz'll be caught