Текст песни: Sporty Thievz. Street Cinema. Propose A Toast.

(To the one who we all love the most)
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah
This joint is dedicated to everybody dead and gone
Everybody gettin it on
Everybody locked up
Everybody on the curb
Everybody in the struggle
It's gon' be aight
We proposin a toast for all a y'all
This one's for y'all man, for everybody, Yo

I neva know when it's my last shot to hug my pops
A smart, hard workin mechanic, who loved his shop
Always told me he lookin out on what's best for me
And use the best of my descretion on my destiny
And all during this phase, you expected straight A's
I had F's, absences, and thirty late days
I understood you thought about, puttin your son in the car
Dad you know I'm sorry you had to find that gun in my drawer
But why order me, tell me school was top priority
Givin mad hints, thinkin like it's got to more to me
Comin home from work, sometime ya mood was stable
Stressed out, just able to keep food on the table
And the way you handle things was like 'Marlon, I'm here to help'
Moms be like 'I'm yellin for my health wit a belt'
I'm tryna' share this wealth, besides my mom and my girl
I propose this toast to the greatest dad in the world

[Hook x2]
Propose a toast if they here or not here
All my niggas throw them bottles in the mothafuckin air
Dead and gone or alive gettin it on
Coast to coast, propose a toast, and God Bless
(We propose a toast to those
All the ones we love the most)

(Wassup Hap, chillin?)
Same ol', same ol'
You know, tryna' turn this block into a volcano
Blow it up!
Sayin though, wassup wit you
How's the crew and mom dukes
(They aight)
True, true
Me, well, you know my moms died
It's aight, go 'head and cry
You get over it as time flies
I did
(Tears slid from his eylid
He got silent, then he said violent)
My mom's is all I had!
Time to pick the clip up, and do stick ups
To cream whip up and somethin's triple up
Been skippin up all nickled up
Neck icecicled up, best part is
Yo, I don't give a fuck!
Kirk, you still rhymin?
I see you got diamonds
Look like sales is climbin
Nigga, look at you smilin
Kirk before I go, let me give this a cross
At my wake, have my shirt off, and two bottles of Smirnoff
Propose me a toast, I love you, adios

[Hook]

You was that nigga B
And I miss you to death
I couldn't maintain the pain when you left, e'ry breath
A real nigga to the bone, but God called you home
I know you B, know you oversea watchin over me
We became cool when I used to cut school
You were there to care, told me that my peoples upstairs
Lookin out for me, and it wasn't even on yet
Comin home wit freaks, I'm like 'Gene, are they gone yet?'
Gave me the green light dude, go 'head and bang
I ring ya buzzer if they come back, so do ya thang
From there on it was gravy
The Wreckin Crew makin hits, shit spittin in ya crib all crazy
Ain't enough balls to express holdin stress
Never the less, Gene, you was the mothafuckin best
So I bring it to a closing
Them bitch niggas stopped ya time
But they can't stop this toast I'm proposin

[Hook x4]

[talking]
Yeah, Yeah
This joint right here is dedicated to my man Showtime
My mothafuckin man Q
My man Gene Gotti
My cousin Ray, Jr.
All my niggas locked up that I ain't neva gon' see no more
All my niggas in the struggle
Yo this one's for y'all man
Word up

Yo, yo, propose a toast to all the homeless
Propose a toast to my father man
My man J Black
Aight
Ya'nah'mean
Mr. Dorsey
Everybody out there on the corners
Propose a toast, we proposin a toast for all a y'all man
Throw them bottles in the air, aight
Word up, propose a toast