R.I.P. (Edited Version)

R.I.P we just killed the club
Drank patron out the bottle, almost killed a thug
Im so high I can't feel the drugs
Too many haters sitting here
I dont feel the love
R.I.P R.I.P we just killed the club
Took patron to the head, almost killed a thug

Im in a brand new drop top 'Rari with 3 bitches
Tired being in the middle of trial with 3 snitches
And I hit up every club in your city
Where niggas at?
I be in every club in the hood
Where niggas at?
Pull up, jump out stuntin like I was Baby
On my cocaine cowboy shit, like in the 80's
Who the nigga think he is
Slick Rick or Dana Dane
Think he Rakim or somethin, look at his chain
YSL, from head to toe, Im Doug E Fresh
Looking like I came to play, Mitchell and Ness
Any nigga with a watch like that
He need attention
Your man dont ball out like that
You need to bench him

Im gone, dont know where Im going
Pockets on extra big, they on Samoan
Got some bad bitches all in my section
Just let some more in
And every nigga came in with me'll kick your door in
Roll up, pass it around like we Jamaican
Whole pounds strapped up in this bitch like we some Haitians
She got good head, good brains, good education
Im drunker than a motherfucker, heres the situation:
1: 45 am, the knob broken
By the time a nigga get to the crib, the mall open
Man the nerve of this high-ass bitch
She on the Molly
She said she she want me to call her Ms. Berry
She think she Halle

Got a pocket full of dead prez
Attatched to your girl like a .jpeg
Party scene turn to a murder scene
Keep shittin on niggas, need potty train
Turn up, collard green
Im on gasoline and
Im on that promethazine
Life ain't nothin but a G thing
Switch lanes, get brain, hand down her g-string
Im the type of nigga thats built to last
You fuck with me, Ill put my foot in your ass
I got a million in stash, I stack my money so tall
That you might need a giraffe
When you was countin this cash, nigga!