They tell me Denver's comin up, but we allready mile high
Pushin big weight, checkin knots and runin up in spots,
Grab ya glock, hold it down, see i'm reppin the D town,
i got a hollow for a hater, yall can catch me sippen Crown.
So throw it up, west walkin, folded rags, and full clipz,
I got the automatic, pants saggin leave ya clipped,
fully dipped in a chevy, hitten heavy, palms sweaty
from the Vega keep it steady, wheel busted turn the levy,
Let em know we deep we dun pardend the ratchet,
i paint my face like ICP and swing down wit a hatchet,
caskets, and turnin slow it's ya boy i reach, i got that fire weed chokin out a swisha sweet.