| Yo, I grew up like a regular cat | 
| Some nigga hit me with consignment | 
| Shit, yo I’ll settle with that | 
| Went to my block, got it off and copped metal with that | 
| So if a nigga ever frontin', I’ma wet him with that | 
| Yo, I grew up like a regular cat | 
| Some nigga hit me with consignment | 
| Shit, yo I’ll settle with that | 
| Went to my block, got it off and copped metal with that | 
| So if a nigga ever frontin', I’ma wet him with that | 
| My guns, my credentials, I’m geased up | 
| Hate a nigga that don’t know me and swear that Bleek front | 
| 'Cause I’m a little nigga, so what, I did my thang | 
| Now I came up, fuck a nigga gon' tell me? | 
| Before this Bleek shit, a nigga couldn’t eat and shit | 
| I sold drugs, fascinated by this sneaker shit | 
| On hot days, I found ways to clock pay | 
| Had yellow tops now my tops is gray | 
| 'Cause one these lame niggas got the color of mine | 
| But one problem, niggas work ain’t as butter as mine | 
| And you got to believe | 
| Yo I’m dope in its rawest form, poppy seed | 
| And you got to be weed, I got a ounce of D and no clientele | 
| But when the sun goes down I hit the strips for sales | 
| Clock mail, half of my dogs ain’t Rottweil | 
| We 'bout to work wholesale, and flip the price to retail | 
| What | 
| Yo, I grew up like a regular cat | 
| Some nigga hit me with consignment | 
| Shit, yo I’ll settle with that | 
| Went to my block, got it off and copped metal with that | 
| So if a nigga ever frontin', I’ma wet him with that | 
| Yo, I grew up like a regular cat | 
| Some nigga hit me with consignment | 
| Shit, yo I’ll settle with that | 
| Went to my block, got it off and copped metal with that | 
| So if a nigga ever frontin', I’ma wet him with that | 
| I got the hood in me, so I guess I’m no good, nigga | 
| I stay strapped 'cause I know a nigga could, nigga | 
| I chop grams in the crib with my man | 
| We blew L’s and politicked on how to expand | 
| We supplied the vein | 
| Promised to go out in a blaze | 
| Before them pigs lock the game | 
| We gotta maintain in this world of cold blood | 
| It’s no love, niggas will back out heat and let you hold slugs | 
| We took re-up money | 
| Rollin dice, and I never thought a game of cee-lo | 
| Could take my man life, over 3 cent, my son was a little bit | 
| A nigga flash heat, he flipped and seen the end of it | 
| A cool cat, and nobody seemed to like him | 
| That was my dog so nobody had to like him | 
| I closed the vein down, I couldn’t hustle no more | 
| But still I hold heat ready to ride to war | 
| 'Cause I could die by this game | 
| Spit in the mic and my life ain’t no different | 
| Just a regular cat | 
| Yo, I grew up like a regular cat | 
| Some nigga hit me with consignment | 
| Shit, yo I’ll settle with that | 
| Went to my block, got it off and copped metal with that | 
| So if a nigga ever frontin', I’ma wet him with that | 
| Yo, I grew up like a regular cat | 
| Some nigga hit me with consignment | 
| Shit, yo I’ll settle with that | 
| Went to my block, got it off and copped metal with that | 
| So if a nigga ever frontin', I’ma wet him with that | 
| Yo, yo | 
| Why niggas throw ice grills and I see you tight grill | 
| But I know if I squeeze, you faggots gon' squeal | 
| I laugh at y’all, flash cash at y’all | 
| In the tinted whatever, ride right past y’all | 
| Me and my co-d, and we all know Bleek | 
| Tight, the whole heat, you niggas don’t know me | 
| Where the fuck niggas know me from? | 
| (Marcy, son) | 
| You niggas frontin' you ain’t have heart to come | 
| Besides you niggas mad 'cause yo' bitch ride shotty | 
| Round town, Malibu mixed with Bacardi | 
| She relaxed in the drop, Fendi shades matchin' the watch | 
| X and O sets, the bitch kinda prop | 
| But her man think he untouchable | 
| Put his ass where he ain’t comfortable, lay him up for a few | 
| He’ll realize, Bleek ain’t the one to fuck with | 
| Provoke me to spit, consider it dealt with | 
| I’m not the type to hit shots and miss you | 
| The type to play you close to kiss you | 
| Nigga describe the pistol, you hit with | 
| When they fillin yo body with liquid | 
| Now I’m on the low 'cause you told 'em it was Memphis | 
| Who blazed you up, yeah, layed you up | 
| Your mouth got you like that, and that’s plain as fuck | 
| I’m a regular cat, what… | 
| Yo, I grew up like a regular cat | 
| Some nigga hit me with consignment | 
| Shit, yo I’ll settle with that | 
| Went to my block, got it off and copped metal with that | 
| So if a nigga ever frontin', I’ma wet him with that | 
| Yo, I grew up like a regular cat | 
| Some nigga hit me with consignment | 
| Shit, yo I’ll settle with that | 
| Went to my block, got it off and copped metal with that | 
| So if a nigga ever frontin', I’ma wet him with that | 
| Yo, I grew up like a regular cat | 
| Some nigga hit me with consignment | 
| Shit, yo I’ll settle with that | 
| Went to my block, got it off and copped metal with that | 
| So if a nigga ever frontin', I’ma wet him with that | 
| Yo, I grew up like a regular cat | 
| Some nigga hit me with consignment | 
| Shit, yo I’ll settle with that | 
| Went to my block, got it off and copped metal with that | 
| So if a nigga ever frontin', I’ma wet him with that | 
| Regular cat, wet him with that | 
| I’m just a regular cat | 
| Yo I’ll settle with that | 
| And I’ma wet him with that, yeah |