I got 25 pints in my book bag
25 ounces of that OG gas
I got a mob full of young niggas, OG man
And I’m a paper route boy, and y’all not fed
I got the pretty white squares with the dragons
I made a half of mill’ bettin’ on the Falcons
And I still give the dope to your daddy
Comin’ up ’cause you know I fuck your mamy
26 and straight 8 with the headband
Gettin’ head from your mama, where the Jim at?
Red 4′s on a really black Bentley
Crip-blue Fortune lookin’ just like pennies
Low-weight nigga but a rhyme don’t scare this
Just hit a lick so I’m finna spend plenty
All up in the club, I ain’t throwin’ them twenties
I at least made 20 mill’ on I20
20 years old, hittin’ 20 fuckin’ licks
30 years old, Gucci’s 20-year-old bitch
Act T-Rose, only 30 years old
The suicide doors and a ride-or-die bitch
Got a call from my niggas said daddy wanna bleach
Tell me where you wanna come, that’s who he can meet
Pillow with a Mack 11 right up on the front seat
Ain’t no nigga gon’ jump me, a nigga gon’ chump me
Just got a call that my dog got some steady
Grab the car keys and the chopper’s out the attic
This the part of the game where shit gets tragic
Nigga say he got problems, we gotta let him have it
Bought a couple AK’s and a couple cars
With my dog been robbin’ now we got a couple problems
He wrong or he right, bitch we shootin’ on sight
Burn your mami’s house down the next morning catch a flight, aight?
Check ‘em out of here, hope he told his family good night
Thanks to breaking down these bails I’mma live the good life
Out in Vegas partyin’ like ain’t shit happened
Out here fuckin’ with these bitches tryna to see what’s happenin’
I hate bitch-ass niggas with a passion
I had to leave ain’t got time for no question-askin’
Feet kicked up smokin’ and relaxin’
Shoot a nigga ass out, John Paxen
I’m the type of nigga that’ll shoot you in public
Right up to a nigga that I robbed in public
I said “I heard you lookin’ for me” and he tried to change the subject
Had that pistol in my briefs and he thought I went Epic
Upped the toll on him now he’s runnin’ through the public
Somebody call the police ’cause they thought I was gon’ bust ‘em
I ain’t give shit back, that is not up for discussion
He should’ve Zone 6 boys ain’t to be trusted
I put love in and I take it, and he pull up in a Cutlass
If the nigga had a roast then the pussy nigga lucky
I might pull up in a Rolls Royce, he pull up in a bucket
Yeah, I robbed your home boy but I ain’t motherfuckin’ duckin’
If you see me in the club better keep on truckin’
‘Cause these niggas on the fuck shit and I ain’t with the fuckery
Got a pistol on me now, back here it’s the Crescent
Matter of fact, 2 pistols, can’t let you get the best of me
It was 1998 when I first learned to wrestle
I was buying dope cooked, and those fuckers was catchin’
Get silly script, man the Lord he was blessin’
Got a car and then a teck, got a whole lot of weaponry
Gotta be behind the door when I’m gone off the extasy
Can’t pull a move, man, the nigga was finessin’
But I broke off and got a bigger number professionally
Made my first second mil, put that pistol on that Mexican
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