Из альбома: CM7: The World Is Yours

Picture me rolling, top drop to the sunset,
Man on the billion, for shit I ain’t done yet.
So I’m not thinking about millions, ‘cause I’ve already done it,
Life of a dope boy, on my second, my goodness.
Look in the mirror, see my reflection salute me,
Homie had a strap, the nigger shining, he shoot that.
Off with his head, homie, no, we don’t play that,
And never keep that work in the house where you’re laying.
For this is my recipe, I’m wining my destiny,
Missing my home boys and they get the best of me.
For I’m walking with angels, get money with strangers,
The life of a screen name, it’s got a bangle,
In love with her down, but she’s still a hoe,
I’m still a nigger, so you know how it goes.
Try not to look at her friends, try not to play her in public,
But a deal what a deal if she leaves and fuck it.

In 2012, a long way from 1999,
A young nigger raced quick for a clock name.
I remember one time, more than one time,
At the school in 2009, in the hush land.
I was hustling grand like a motherfucker grown man,
Sixteen years old, paying the bills, I’m a grown man.
Now I’m hustling while my brother doing jail time,
Roll them a little, try to get a nigger fake tan,
Strong will survive, ain’t no bitch in my blood line,
On the hood they want, and nigger I’m on the good land.
This life ain’t about choices, and niggers got vices,
But I’m strong playing their work like the nigger got license.
Put these hoes on the roll, ‘cause the bitches be trifling,
Cut the lights in the club, yeah, the nigger be icey.
Niggers talking me close, I’m just losing for prices,
I get money here, ‘cause the niggers be shy, still.
And that’s real.

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