back in the days a nigga used to rob for fun knocking niggas out was pleasure, never cared for funds brass knuckles, weapon of choice, a nigga never cared for guns, a nigga never cared to run, round my way; everything either lickin or drug dealing, blood spilling between the niggas I know, hand and feet work, we be watchin tibo, in the room, light behind me, I'm boxing shadows, then moved on to the next, like drug dealing was sweet, rather flip properties or do something unique, that people can remember me for, yea they seeing me up, but they remember me poor, remembered when I kicked in the doors, man listen, now I'm on a grown man mission, flipping this and that so I do hear my boo thang bitchin and it's always 6 poppin nigga no set trippin