| Rollin' up some good, pourin' up 'til we get faded | 
| You know how we do it, everybody takin' flicks of me | 
| I got the keys to the city, I don’t need no limousine | 
| I turn out when I pull up and tell my bookin' agent book a show | 
| Runnin' 'round with the paper bag, runnin' 'round with the paper bag | 
| Goin' crazy spendin' all this cash, goin' crazy spendin' all this cash | 
| If I spend it I’ma get it back, even when I’m ridin' round dirty | 
| A nigga don’t need a seatbelt, a nigga don’t need a seatbelt | 
| Nah, it don’t cost to keep it real, run up, get done up | 
| Shit can get real, fuck around and get your ass robbed | 
| Nigga fuck around and tell you shit, got ya askin' «God, why?» | 
| Drag your ass into a alley, pull out, aim for the target | 
| Should’ve never been around the killers, in my town we the fuckin' realest | 
| No Chedder Bobs 'round here, I get to sprayin', they gon' get down | 
| Ski mask over my face, catch a body in broad day | 
| Catch a body in broad day | 
| I got the key to the city, I got a hoe that’s saddity | 
| Talk to that bitch in Swahili, tattoo my name in graffiti | 
| Wack at your hood in graffiti, come through your hood on the weekend | 
| None of ya’ll niggas can see me, none of ya’ll niggas can see me | 
| Ya’ll ain’t got nothin' like this over there, bunch of front line millionaires | 
| Bunch of self made, out the trunk paid against the odds, really took it there | 
| Any prob I’ma reappear, with a squad you already fear | 
| All this time I’ve been playin' fair, seven digits every single year | 
| Niggas died, niggas disappear, alibis, I was really there | 
| Life of crime 'til I get the chair, Columbine in my trigger hair | 
| Still I rise and I took the stairs, feel the fire, it’s a different glare | 
| All these fights, it was never fair, bustin' knuckles till I’m swingin' fierce | 
| Face is swollen, some I’m drippin' tears, you should know I never had a fear | 
| You should know I never had a shot, never had a chance, still I took it here | 
| Manage pride but I see it clear, strategize, I’m a engineer | 
| Pick a side, gotta keep it there, switchin' up nigga, lookin' weird | 
| I got the key to the city, I got a hoe that’s saddity | 
| Talk to that bitch in Swahili, tattoo my name in graffiti | 
| Wack at your hood in graffiti, come through your hood on the weekend | 
| None of ya’ll niggas can see me, none of ya’ll niggas can see me | 
| Tappin in', said they’d wait for it | 
| Tell the streets a nigga back again | 
| Ridin' round inside the back again | 
| Rollin' flights inside the back again | 
| 405 another traffic jam | 
| Improvised another master plan | 
| Sit outside a nigga family pad | 
| Another seven grams inside a sandwich bag | 
| My whole life is like a balance act | 
| People’s champ but could you handle that | 
| I pull up inside the black on black | 
| And park this big ass Benz inside the handicap | 
| What I done, they can’t imagine that | 
| One of one, it’s like a magic trick | 
| Matter fact, it’s like a lotto pick | 
| That’s why I gotta talk a lot of shit |