Minimum

This is the minimum

Hands on the wheel

I’m chillin'

Seat back

Black tint

Still winnin'

Heart cold

But the wrist keep spillin'

This is the minimum

This is the minimum

The minimum

Yamaji minimum words

Minimum stress

This is the minimum

This is the minimum

The minimum

Number 9 on my chest

Yeah

Minimum Gangsta

In the car

Two lanes

One scar

ABS grip when it slide on the tar

Classic dress

But the mind bizarre

Quiet on the surface

Loud in the radar

Minimum talk

Let the silence stalk

Big steps

Little chalk when we outline the block

Phone on mute

But the pay don’t stop

Short text: “Come thru” — that’s the whole plot

Minimum love

Eyes say enough

Arms round waist in the back of the club

Short night

Long drive

City in the glove

Seat lean back

Can’t fake this stuff

Minimum escape

Key in

No brakes

One word typed and the whole room shakes

Small circle

Big stakes

Few real

Most snakes

One look

One nod — that’s all it takes