Uh. Yeah. Uh. Yeah.
Crank up the bass.
Bookshelf Q. Battler.
Comin’ straight at ya face.
Seventeen!
Three less than twenty,
It sure is plenty.
Seventeen!
Eighty-seven less than a buck,
You know I don’t give a…
Seventeen! Seventeen!
You know a man can only dream of
Seventeen!
A dime and a nickel, two portraits of Lincoln.
Go to the club and my breath is stinkin…
of Cristal! Because I’m a baller.
Because I’m rolling up to my crib, still chasin the green.
But until I get some foldin’ cash, I’ll have my seventeen!
Bookshelf Battle 