It's cream-day, fiends!
Now an hour passed, I didn't get a call yet, fiends pissed off mad there ain't no more left
Now this nigga moving foul, where's my call ref? Another hour passed I was at his doorstep
*knock-knock*, somebodys home cause the kids there, they said who?
I said 'It's me', like I live there
He came out and said yo, my fault, he a little slow but he bringing the coke
I said no, fuck that
I want my motherfucking money