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 tofu, 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
 Cuz 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
 Cuz 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