driving late night look at them street lights shine in my eyes takes me back when I was here with my dad good times bad times no more sad times listen to them wind chimes chime scraping the bottom searching for dimes hearing all homies cry in these desperate times I ryme to give them hope but for now they sell that dope lighting that smoke climbing high up the rope my boys snorting coke in my hood real 18's we crazy never hazy them other barrios be lazy our bitches tasty chillin like fuckin villins getting them guns killin aint always willing but its survival so we shoot them rivals with our x8 style and we exterminate