| I was on the block picturing blocks at fifteen, | |
| I remember underage drinking at sixteen, | |
| Then my nuts in Cali banging at seventeen, | |
| Now I got everything, bitch, I got everything. | |
| My back was to the wall, visited all, after all, all I had was me | |
| Just tenacity, so we all leave with a sense of sweet | |
| Then everything I write around got a cotton seat, | |
| Fuck y'all dry, saw off and done rapidly. | |
| Partner, now let's be honest, ain't got no good intentions, | |
| The upper tune is the dudes moving in my position. | |
| But I'm a heavy, wait humble, hitting the heavy bag | |
| Waiting for the day I stumble across your fucking ass. | |
| Instead I push the work in, chin up and chest out, | |
| Picking the shit up where I left off, | |
| You went soft intention too tenant to deal with the Los Angel, | |
| I admit it, I bull shit and gave you the wrong angle, | |
| Now I have a seat at my table, let me do you the business, | |
| Diversify you millions, you can leave off the entrance. | |
| Make every revenue street flood to where it took me, | |
| And make that money stack higher than giraffes. | |
| I was on the block picturing blocks at fifteen, | |
| I remember underage drinking at sixteen, | |
| Then my nuts in Cali banging at seventeen, | |
| Now I got everything, bitch, I got everything. | |
| I used to have a Glock that I would shot to at backpack | |
| So it will leave no shells at the scene where I was getting my kid back. | |
| Yeah, this for the homie whack, rolled to and chopped up, | |
| On hard to make the west defined a united fund. | |
| Beard big, light it up, waiting on that vending truck, | |
| So I can crush the corner, welcome to California | |
| Where people fake it 'till they make it, or take it with their hand gun, | |
| Take your chances, swing, try to land one. | |
| Now you're in the box like a sand some, I march to the madness | |
| My symphony deliver something classic. | |
| Either you ain't glad or you blast it, jumped in or dragged it, | |
| Either way, you got to salute the flag, who you want it with? | |
| I acknowledge honest with whole heart and integrity, | |
| People keep telling me I'm about to catch a felony. | |
| Stage presence, reminiscent of my flash back | |
| Gave my girl a son and my last name. | |
| I was on the block picturing blocks at fifteen, | |
| And I remember underage drinking at sixteen, | |
| Then my nuts in Cali banging at seventeen, | |
| Now I got everything, bitch, I got everything. | |
| They're talking about they locked up in a coop in the mansion, | |
| I'm saying you can't knock me off the square that I stand in. | |
| Nobody gave me nothing, this is just where I landed, | |
| 'Cause now I got everything, bitch, I got everything. | |
| Motherfucker, I live in room that look like a drive-in, | |
| When I open my eyes a bunch of bitches play violins | |
| Nothing but respect when I walk to the lights in, | |
| Because I kill everything, bitch, I kill everything. | |
| Nothing ever compares with the spring of a free mind, | |
| Find the most dangerous weapon ever acquired by mankind | |
| Using to fight for your freedom and oppress your oppressors | |
| You mould them and lead them, fuck the positive message. | |
| This is a lifetime allegiance, boy, you're down to the essence, | |
| There's no payment for passage, my immaculate presence, | |
| Make every revenue street flood, look where it took me, | |
| And make that money stack high and you run a pussy. | |
| I was on the block picturing blocks at fifteen, | |
| I remember underage drinking at sixteen, | |
| Then my nuts in Cali banging at seventeen, | |
| Now I got everything, bitch, I got everything. | |
| They're talking about they locked up in a coop in the mansion, | |
| I'm saying you can't knock me off the square that I stand in. | |
| Nobody gave me nothing, this is just where I landed, | |
| 'Cause now I got everything, bitch, I got everything. |
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