[ Featuring Nicholas Craven ]
Yeah, where we at?
Reminiscin', poppin' the clutch before I burnt the gear
So high off of the Seroquans, I could swerve a Lear
Thirty years what I was facing, I had to persevere
Remember first time I shot the chopper, it hurt my ears
Learnt to steer stealing cars, now I got a mil' in cars
Growin' up, I feared murder, now I'm on that murder tier
Co-defendant still at large, lookin' at a El DeBarge
That's a real tearjerker, never even jerked a tear
I heard Samir took his plea back, now he lookin' at three nets
When they told me T ratted, that shit hurt me dear
Whenever somethin' go wrong, I'm usually the first to hear
Can't even complain 'cause I know felons with the worst career
Criminal rap sheet, they found a brick in the backseat
Should've been athletes fightin' this case, already served a year
Without no Bon Jovi, ain't got no anchovies
That one nigga who slammed brodie, yeah, I heard he here
Not guilty on all counts, they know we balled out
On the humble, that's how the cookie crumble and the ball bounce
Now we U-Haul truckloads inside of small towns
Roundin' up them raw custos that used to call count
But now it's all hundros behind the wall mount
Forgot to mention why that chicken never crossed the road
Posted at Balduck Park, with a balled-up roll
Countin' up all my pros from down in Walnut Grove
Ice on the bridge of my Cartis, I damn near caught a cold
"Too hot, get out the kitchen," how my pop talked to the stove
My weed stronger than Hancock, can hear a pin drop
Money so quiet, can't even hear the rubber band pop
Pour a three in the can pop, I got a flight to catch
Soon as I land, got that twenty-shot up in my Nike Tech
Unlike the rest of these niggas, I was the pride and joy
Leader of the pack, but Jack ain't never been no mama's boy
Ain't gotta cut me no slack, can't break it down for no fraud
Know I'm down for the cause, somethin' like a mongoloid
Put that switch on your backside and embarrass you
Six seconds, pop out the whole clip quick as a parachute
Rich like some carrot soup, pour the drink thick as Theraflu
I been gettin' money, I put that on my grandma Mary Lou
When these ain't movin' in your town, I know somewhere they do
For where if one gun ain't enough, you gotta carry two
Not guilty on all counts, they know we balled out
On the humble, that's how the cookie crumble and the ball bounce
Now we U-Haul truckloads inside of small towns
Roundin' up them raw custos that used to call a count
But now it's all hundros behind the wall mount
Forgot to mention why that chicken never crossed the road
Posted at Balduck Park, with a balled-up roll
Countin' up all my pros from down in Walnut Grove
