| Eight
|
| 'Bout the wait
|
| Bein' in the hood with no escape
|
| Learned from my mistakes
|
| Sentence on cases
|
| Back when I was five years old, I knew that I was gon' be great
|
| I found my gift for music back around the age of eight
|
| I knew I’d be successful, it was more about the wait
|
| So unacceptable as being in the hood with no escape
|
| My mama taught me right but I just learned from my mistakes
|
| Started washing up the day I caught a sentence on the case
|
| Hunger pains shaped me to the way I am today
|
| I gotta live with it, feelings that won’t ever go away
|
| Not every day I pray, but that ain’t nothing cute to say
|
| The money good, but how I know my boys is finna stay?
|
| Put my all into this music, I ain’t make it here to play
|
| Came a long way from booking niggas, me and Trigga Trey
|
| Okay, I’m just tryna shed a little bit of light
|
| And motivate them kids who haven’t found they way in life
|
| Remember I ain’t have nowhere to lay my head at night
|
| Trappin' on the block, I was sellin' weed and dirty Sprite
|
| Don’t wait until you hurtin' 'fore you choose to pray to Christ
|
| Shooter on my package, you ever see me on them bikes
|
| Still be in my hood, I’m comin' up, I’m playin' dice
|
| I earned my stripes so I walk around my city like shit nice
|
| On God, I wish I could make sure everybody eat
|
| Red bottoms drippin' off of everybody feet
|
| Hard feelings, I be thinking everybody keep
|
| And I’m workin' hard, I be up while everybody sleep
|
| Asthma acting up, fuck it, I don’t really care
|
| Still spittin' bars while I’m wheezing for some air
|
| Pocket hold a deuce, and yeah, it’s small, I’m well aware
|
| When it flare, hit your melon, bet your salsa hit the air
|
| VVS’s diamonds on me, reason why they stare
|
| Youngest out the city, reason I don’t really care
|
| AN on my body, best believe I’m well aware
|
| Quarter milli' on the 'Gram, lil' boy, you’re nowhere near
|
| Flexed up, just was next up, now I’m up now
|
| Down to Earth, true to all my fans, I could touch ground
|
| Run up on me thinkin' I don’t got it, you get pumped down
|
| Bustdown, glizzy in my pocket, stupid nigga
|
| No security, 18, I don’t think they hearing me
|
| Apparently niggas ain’t real, shit be scaring me
|
| I’m glizzied up, got that glizzy tucked, why they fearing me?
|
| Rap nigga try to throw shade, why he daring me?
|
| 18, got a clean record thanks to YO
|
| Your bitch, she swallow
|
| You feel a way, then catch a hollow
|
| And hits really nothin', we don’t really care for five-o
|
| I been doin' this shit, as a kid I was nine-o
|
| But they don’t really know that, somethin' like a throwback
|
| Tryna clean the image up so I don’t wanna show that
|
| Headed to the top, I ain’t never tryna go back
|
| Signs you see me throwin' up, they nothin' like a zodiac
|
| Fuck the other side, see my nuts, they can hold that
|
| Showin' off them pistols, I ain’t never seen you blow that
|
| Smelly hella proud and the opps already know that
|
| If y’all want me gone, why don’t you come and pull up where a show at?
|
| No cap
|
| No cap (Niggas already know I was gon' make it)
|
| Man, she know I was gon' make it
|
| You know I was gon' make it, yeah
|
| I can talk my, my stuff now
|
| 'Cause we out here
|
| No, yeah, you act tough inside the school
|
| And out here, look at you today, yeah, quiet
|
| Remember sellin' white up on the block
|
| Tryna make some knots
|
| D’s try to run up in the spot
|
| Me and Smelly sittin' in the trap
|
| Smokin' on the pack
|
| Wrong crib, all you smell is crack
|
| And I done put my trenches onto rap
|
| I wish I could go back
|
| To August 14th to be exact
|
| That’s when my nigga Smelly would be here
|
| Trauma so severe
|
| I had to watch him crying out for air
|
| Bet he’s in the air, make me cough
|
| Spinnin' through the fourth
|
| Catch an opp, I’m finna take him off
|
| And I call the shots, I’m a boss
|
| Skinny version Ross
|
| Dummy in the air, take a loss
|
| Y’all niggas gon' get me caught up, man
|
| Got me talkin' hot and shit, man
|
| Niggas know my body though
|
| SB the fuck up, gang |