Post up on the wall my niggaz ready ta rock, roll wit a grip of fellons that was in the pen becuz of da rock,stayed with the rock razor blades used for mo then dicin cain,ppl crazy on the streets for st8 up wantin a blaze,blowin a haze , remind me of sittin wit uncle carlos no rolls royce but im doin my best regardless homie,haters steady on sum shit like a roll of charmin,u know me, the o.g sent from above ta keep ya girl co-zy,niggaz act like fiends on 1st ave str8 no-sey,hold me when times is gettin hard permantly scared from what i seen, im tryn ta make it large ,gettin rich ta sum is real but for us folks its a marage, livin in a world of dreams and rock bands inside garages,im like the ethiopians from africa im str8 starvin,so u know im hungry listen ta outkast & temptations so u know the beat is funky, i like'em spunky well known just like the beat junkies,street lucky so when things go my way u know the beef aint phoney,holdin my own like a bread basket no grain but cocaine,niggaz get felt up more in they life by the 12 gage