Everybody keep tellin me make a club record
You ain't trappin' no more, stop makin' drug records
Nigga you just had a daughter, stop makin' thug records
I brought that money back fast, I had the plug flexin'
Welcome to Harlem, El Barrio, that's the drug section
Hit your bitch with my jeans on, they makin' love naked
I got love for my local, but I know cuz reckless
I ain't gotta sleep in the projects, I did enough stressin'
My father was a rollin' stone, but taught me one lesson
Do your dirt by yourself, your friends be the ones tellin'
I know it broke my mother heart to see her son sellin'
I had coke in my dresser, trifling as ever had a dream
Biggie featured me on life after
I be with my same niggas
I don't really like rappers
Niggas can't make a song for nothin' but they nice actors
Go and get a movie role
Low baggin' up tuna rolls
Raw shit
I come from a block where you seen it but never saw shit
I be at the juice bar, my wheat grass and bark shit
My youngin' just came from up north, he tryna pop shit
Tryna teach him somethin' bout life and how we started
Lower class poverty, homies from jail callin' me
Playin' a number every day but never hit the lottery
Liquor store on the corner, might as well get drunk
I remember that free lunch, wasn't shootin we would jump, stump
Niggas like the end of a blunt
Trap slowed up, I told papi I got 'em by the end of the month
I was thinkin' bout 5 50's with the cinnamon guts
These shots will blow your mind away, now your memory dust
In memory of, I got a J.F. Kennedy buzz
Presidential, call Enterprise, I need another rental
Tryna take a package down to North Carolina
Maybe buy some Ferragamo, I'm so focused on these commas
If you never been broke it's gon' be hard to feel me
Only Allah in my vote, it's gon' be hard to kill me
They say practice make perfect, we at it every day
I'm thinking 'bout that consignment, sometimes I never paid
It was written, I'm gifted, homie come learn something
Conversations 'bout paper, baby come burn something
East side