[Hook]
It's the daiquiri factory where niggas look after me
Assault and battery it's sort of a tragedy
Kicking it live right with killer suspension
Smoking weed in the kitchen and so reluctant to listen
(x 2)

[Verse 1]
Can you picture the perfect rhyme, the perfect tone, the perfect pitch?
The perfect mind, the perfect crime, the perfect bitch?
So materialistic it make me want to risk it
Hoping the pigs don't pull me over with my new biscuit
I'm sorta twisted, swerving to the next light
I'll bet I be some Tanqueray in my next life
Or a silver gat, man can you picture that?
With all my cousins as bullets meant for the payback
It's sort of slippery, kind of like the street is wet
But I'm a vet so let your tiger recollect
With all the pain fed up with the dope game
That's why I still love my tigers that slang 'caine

[Hook]

[Verse 2]
Baby said "You look sad, cheer up. What's your name?"
I said "It's Andre, uh! I can't complain"
I love singers and ghetto basketball players
And I spit rap for all the legendary crack slingers
We kick it live, buzzing like a bee hive
And it'll remain that way until we hit the sky
Like Public Enemy #1
Cats come to my show and say they uzi weigh a ton son
You know the chemistry, do you remember me?
Man, I'm your tiger from way back in '83
We ate ice cream and played hoops man
We did all these things before the D game

[Hook]

Bye-bye