If you a thug my ni**a be a thug

If you sell drugs my ni**a then sell drugs

If you gonna rap about it be trill about it

And don't say sh*t if you can＇t be real about it

Comin up as a child my city was hell

My moma was the best soldier, dad stayed in out of jail

I came robbin and kickin in doors then on my behalf and 17 old

But ya see shorty, My mom was a G

She made it real easy for my sista and me

She did what she had to do, and got out the damn crowd like a ni**a would do

Talkin about pimpin, o she did that too

I got robbed and this old ni**a took all my loot

And I was just 12 years old on 13 skin and bones thats why I thank my heart to sell d**e

I gives a f**k about none of you hoes

All you fake thugs think about is grills and gold, and pressin these doors

(shorty)and cakin these hoes

Ima pimp, I spend my time makin these hoes

Nobody loves me so I guess I stay to myself

A ni**a thinkin bout change comtemplating my death

Fell my pain as it reigns all over a ni**a

And the only way i can get away is w**d and liquor

Fukin *z up on the daily if they didnt pay me

*z pullin guns on me damn near drove me crazy

Young ni**a went to school just to sell some d**e

A lil crazy a**ni**a wit a knife in his coat

And in the streets broke heathens went through drama especially

Moma swung on a ni**a, i stabbed the b**ch in her head (ni**a)

I dun scratch my head unless it itchs

An i dun smoke unless i＇m bustin at you hatin *s

Ni**a we was brave to die, don't be askin me why

Ill rather hustle in the cold cuz *z sprayin wit fire

All the childhood fixins wit tha devil inside the kitchen

Got my mind on my gun and I＇m finna pull a pistol

You see the streets, they＇ll shallow you whole, mind body and soul

And leave you in a ditch wit no shoes and clothes

Waitin for the trash collector

Follow me mind selector to the ghetto sector

They＇ll kill you over thirty dollars

I seen a man cut wit a dirty bottle blood squirted on his shirt and collar

I heard him holla a sound that I can't forget

Ran home, watched cartoons and ain＇t said sh*t

And to this day moma thought I was young, hungry, and poor (par)

While she was at the church praising the lord

I made through amazingly unscarred

She had to be praying cuz I made it by the grace of the god

I'm proud of my hard times, I spit hard rhymes

Bible in one hand, the other hand 9

Dreaming of naming streets and boulevards mine

Grab yo piece of the pie, the other parts mine