Personal OG

[Intro:]
[The Manhattans:]
It's 2 AM and the place is gonna close,
The bartender looks as though he knows,
Everybody's, everybody's been at home,
Here we sit...
[Freddie Gibbs:]
Yeah, time to shut it on down, baby, you know what I'm sayin'?
You sure you want to do this shit tonight because it might hurt, baby, you know what I'm sayin'?
Might hurt you when I get up in the morning and leave, you know what I mean?
Take that walk, you know what I mean?

[Verse 1: Freddie Gibbs]
Slammin',
When I hit you up I'm talkin' about bangin' something,
Chill off in your crib and have a thing, probably make it stank or something.
Girl, you like my bottom bitch, post my bail, pay for my lawyer,
Play your position when them other hoes get outta order.
When you wanna give me that pussy? You purchase a plane ticket,
Run around town, when I bust her down, they want shit like them lames did it,
Got her dick whipped, my dick smeared with lipstick,
Basically if this bitch lay with me, she payin' me, I'm on some pimp shit,
For real! It's 2 A.M., club was ‘bout to close up,
Thumbin' through my contacts, ‘bout to call one of my hoes up,
Then I met you, kicked game and followed you to the breakfast spot,
Fucked you like I married you that night up in the Marriott,
Screamin' like you got your cherry popped,
Fuckin', switchin' up positions,
Thought this shit would never stop,
Motherfuck an intermission!
Damn! Here we are again.

[Chorus: BJ the Chicago Kid – ×2]
It ain't got to be the walk of shame, baby,
But that's only if you know the game, baby,
Later I can't be the one to blame, baby,
But for now take the walk of shame, baby.

[Verse 2: Freddie Gibbs]
Straight slammin',
Sleepin' with pistols under my pillow,
We wake and bake, she up naked twistin' up cigarillos.
I beat that Thursday night and Friday morning, off to work she go,
Time to take that walk, just take this dick, don't take it personal.
Your friends probably gonna call you a ho, what you trippin' on?
Them bitches want a grip from the same dick you be sittin' on,
And your girl Monique, she be hittin' me when her nigga gone,
Tryna buy some weed, she proceed with nothing but Vicky's on,
Nothing but ass and titties, but I let that ass convince me.
Took it in that, hit that, wish I could say it was accidentally,
Like I stepped on a banana peel and fell in that pussy,
Y'all niggas be spendin' all kind of scrill to get in that pussy,
And she cop a seven every Friday,
Chuck the deuces at her baby daddy as I pulled up out the driveway,
For real! Here we are again.

[Chorus: BJ the Chicago Kid – ×2]
It ain't got to be the walk of shame, baby,
But that's only if you know the game, baby,
Later I can't be the one to blame, baby,
But for now take the walk of shame, baby.