Get yall *** up, and to my homies get y'all masks up,
This is a beat take over,
Shout to the Clova, yo when we touch bars, its over,
But i be from the tre,
All day we ride jammin' in the 93,
My caddy,
Baby mack, still i hold in my back,
Used to be on that **** ****,
Hottest bricks to *****,
Until i seen some of my homies get picked,
Up for prison, like a nba draft pick,
Number one seed,
And my momma cryin' until the tears bleed,
But now you, stuck in the system, shouting that prison,
These youngins, spitting the game backwards,
Dont even see these same ******, living in the hood,
Like back in the day, and back in the day, the real OGs would have something to say,
Never did like hip hop, but only if it could get me to the top,
And at the top it's lonely, and cold,
Only way is back down,
So stand if you bold,
We gotta bless the children, but yall muthaphukkaz keep drillin,
All that *******,
Half of y'all just talkin' ****,
Barely amount to ****,
We aint feelin' it,
Wearin' ya ice, claiming you nice, shermed out ******* got them spiced,
Hoes is the model, young girls to throttle,
Up they insecurities, see the troubles, in this society,
Quietly,
They hate it, cuz im old school,
Chose the gold rule,
Sampson tactics with no protols,
My profile, is low and wild,
I got.my own gig, so **** going out in style,
Yeah i may cuss more than Kyle,
Y'all know the numbers to dial,
I fadeaway like Jordan,
Always get game point,
So suckas better lay low before you become anoint,