| This is a story | 
| Bout my lil homie joey | 
| So joey started selling more drugs | 
| Than my older homies | 
| Muthafuckers started hatin' quick | 
| Being on the lamest shit | 
| All because joey | 
| Owned the latest shit | 
| A young kid | 
| Who found drug distribution | 
| Feeling all alone | 
| While his older sister’s prostitutin' | 
| You’re beautiful | 
| But i hate to say it | 
| Your beauty’s ruined | 
| I blame the struggle | 
| And all the bullshit | 
| That made you do it | 
| No matter what | 
| I love my sister though | 
| And g i promise | 
| I’m a change your life | 
| Once i flip a brick of coke | 
| But for now | 
| I’m a just chill | 
| And flip some dough | 
| And smoke weed | 
| And dark liquor, i sip it slow | 
| Trying to forget | 
| My mother put us in foster homes | 
| In deep depression | 
| It made me feel | 
| Like i lost my soul | 
| I got recruited to a gang | 
| And now i’m trippin' hard | 
| No father figure | 
| His father is up in a prison yard | 
| I wonder why my family is so dysfunctional | 
| So hard to function | 
| Hustlin' hard has been my arsenal | 
| Often been broken hearted | 
| By women who look to bombest | 
| Fuck it he don’t look back | 
| When he tell these bitches | 
| He’s honest | 
| But always give em respect | 
| Keep in mind | 
| It’s somebody’s daughter | 
| He learned his lesson | 
| From different women who call em | 
| Some they go to school | 
| And some they started strippin' | 
| Drug dealin' was good | 
| And of course he started trickin' | 
| Buying women | 
| Designer purses & shoes | 
| Different girls to choose | 
| What up to jasmine at deja vu | 
| Ambitions of a woman with dreams right | 
| Started with a gift | 
| Now she fucking her team right | 
| (told you) | 
| Like fuck it we live the g life | 
| In slow motion | 
| As we hit the weed pipe | 
| Stayed focused on bad women | 
| And shady men | 
| He should’ve known | 
| From that one txt | 
| At 3 a. | 
| m | 
| A naked picture from jasmine | 
| Like what up? | 
| Dot dot l-o-l | 
| Come & pick me up | 
| So joey’s now driving | 
| Ghetto birds & sirens | 
| Mobbin' through south central | 
| Los angeles violence | 
| On figueroa & 82nd | 
| He made a left | 
| He put his music down | 
| Suddenly another txt | 
| Like hold up give me a sec | 
| He replied with | 
| I’m in that grey lex | 
| And now he’s looking through his rearview | 
| He got that feeling | 
| Like when somebody is gettin' near you | 
| A black truck pulls up | 
| The driver covered his face | 
| Started waving a gun | 
| And said what up muthafucka | 
| Where the fuck you from? | 
| Pop pop pop | 
| She was settin' him up | 
| Never trust a beautiful woman | 
| They’ll be quick to have muthafuckas come get you | 
| R.i.p. | 
| to my homies, dead & gone | 
| All the real hustlers in the streets, hell yeah |