| Once upon a time in the apartments, aye
|
| I damn near had to smoke a J
|
| He knocked on the door, what’s haapnin'
|
| Its Jimmy Jam trying to score a little packet frame?
|
| I said the work that we was cooking wasn’t dry yet
|
| But he could have the residue from the Pyrex
|
| He say, he had some niggas with him worth a hundred plus
|
| But the niggas up the street was servin' touch and bust
|
| I told him «Wait a minute it was all good»
|
| That when I seen a nigga hoppin' out the Fleetwood
|
| With gold teeth talking about he want a whole ki'
|
| Right then I’m thinking: «do this motherfucker know me?»
|
| He was with a nigga who wouldn’t even buy an oz
|
| That’s when I said he’s either robbing or the police
|
| Either way I slammed the door in his face
|
| Started gathering and collecting all the blow in the place
|
| Went and got the dough out of the safe and .44 and a K
|
| Whatever he is trying I ain’t tripping cause we know where he stays
|
| About 150 grand, three birds in a knapsack
|
| Stashed it in my neighbor’s trash then I ran back
|
| I had to keep the tool just in case though
|
| If these niggas make a move you already know
|
| With the Desert Eagle in my waistband
|
| I slung the front door open and hollered «Jimmy Jam!
|
| «What's up with that nigga that you roll with?
|
| In the fake chains and the flea market outfit.»
|
| He said «Now Tip you know I wouldn’t try you.»
|
| I said «Cause if you do he gets killed and you die, too.»
|
| He said «He ain’t like that he used to sell weight
|
| Started smoking he embarrassed now he’s trying to save face»
|
| The conversation was interrupted again
|
| When this country nigga pulled 'bout twenty bands out of his pants
|
| He said «I'm in the right place, this enough, ain’t it?»
|
| I said «Hell yeah, if you trying to donate it
|
| Shit that get you locked up, I don’t sell blow.»
|
| Then he said «I heard you had it?»
|
| I said «Yeah, so?»
|
| I guess that nigga Boogie from a couple doors down saw his money
|
| Run up said «I got it for the low now.»
|
| I’m thinking: «Boogie stupid he don’t even know brah
|
| He just always wants to take a nigga’s customa.»
|
| This one he could have
|
| I said «I guess that’s your man, then.»
|
| I was smoking laughing at his ass
|
| When they ran in
|
| They said Boogie had a quarter mil, over twenty bricks
|
| Shit all I know is I ain’t seen that nigga since
|
| Keep yo' head on the swivel for the nonsense
|
| Everyday is something when you’re trapping in apartments |