Push shit I'm boolin wit millions on my mental,imagine me written my story wit just a pencil,I was Ken to dem niggas ballin wit just a rental,War time dem straight bullets a come and hit you,As a shorty was told that streets a never fit you,How is dat when I'm living wit all da shit I been through,cold nights in dem cars it had me be resentful,I was locked behind bars didn have know one to vent to,32 and im still block son of good pops he wanted my mama ta be his wife,but he a lil problem that didn't agree wit Christ,It had me in the streets keeping it moist with the rice,a band on each nigga in Beardsley shooting up dice,If you ever get me once ya never getting me twice, Get cha shit straight dats what my mama told me,I believe in chirst don't mean the bible holy visions vivid like pictures a thousands words flowing,Booth be the presents when I get my feelings going use ta sleep in cars I should of had it monthly,I ain't have shit dats probably why she dump me,gotta pot ta piss now she wanna hug me,I tell her baby no I ain't wit the phony,niggas be talking out the side and they fill bologna,my youngins they a come and slide and get busy wit Tony, cukoch the new flow i be on ya brain like some new growth, gotta develop shit