when I hit the streets I'm playin skelly, ring to leavey, or catch a kiss before the homies in my hood learned to smack a bitch, I remember way back,
ghetto I'm the bow, you the arrow I'm the shell, you the barrel I'm a pimp, you a player I'm dope, you the hustler I'm a nine, quiet me down, you the
Verse 3:] I'm wonderin' when I'm gone if you'll miss me (miss me) or do you miss the Don Perion and the Cristy I'm fuckin' with you I'm feelin' your
3:] I'm wonderin' when I'm gone if you'll miss me (miss me) or do you miss the Don Perion and the Cristy I'm fuckin' with you I'm feelin' your shape
away [Styles P] You know where I come from The place where your fate is a mic Or a bull or a dum dum A jail cell a pine box And brothers is dumb young
could call it my wife It?s dedicated to the one that I wake with and sleep with Every morning I get up and I brush my teeth with Even when I?m watching
I keep on holding you, when all you do is hurt me? All my friends say I should let you go. So afraid that I might see. I can't keep living life like this
do I keep on holding you When all you do is hurt me? All my friends say I should let you go So afraid that I might see I can't keep on living life like
to lag, and I got that swager workin I'm smokin some I can't pronounce, but I'm behind them phantom curtain What is you hiding bitch? I'm on some paper
trail I'm turnin' On this curve I'm hanging On this pathway I'm strolling, in the space I'm taking In this air I'm inhaling Am I mixed up too much, am
Is getting pretty old So I guess I'll call up my big mama Tell her I'll be rolling in Bet you know, deep down, I'm kinda tempted To go and see my Bessie
cause you know I Get wetter than a juice box when I say who got the juice I ain't talkin bout tupac sex game Cold I need a hoodie I can give you something
I'm still ballin Crawlin out the hottes b's on these ATL streets From the garden to the box office I shuts down both And it don't matter where I go I'
with with quite a haul And that's when I heard someone shout "In with new, out with the old!" A dusty box of letters A rusty suit of armor A casket made
lights up a butt and takes a drag Waitin' for when the last shall be first and the first shall be last In a cardboard box 'neath the underpass Got a
I'm in I'm like Smithsonian nigga, fuck it call me Napoleon Wave the torch, cut the head off the Leviathan The terminology I'm rhymin in cause a frenzy
I'd ever stop now, I'mma die tryin', I'mma die trying And sometimes I get weak from walking the road I'm on But I'mma keep on. I'mma die tryin', I'mma
why shouldn't I I'm just playing but I guess that couldn't go without saying I'm just gon ride this revolution until they stop me where I'm stayin But I