[Intro]

Ain't that DJ Chose over there?

Mmm, you look like DJ Chose

[Chorus]

I put twenty on the wrist just to feel alive

I got sticks inside the car, too many niggas dying

All these niggas like cassettes 'cause they be flipping sides

Real ones dead and gone, that shit hard to find

You ain't even got a car, but say that you would ride

You won't even ride for you, so I know that you lying

I can tell you gon' switch, I see it in your eyes

Real ones getting rare, that shit hard to find

[Verse 1]

I've done seen it all, swear to God I almost did it too

Living close to the grave where you be if I'm not digging you

In touch with my feelings, won't touch again if I'm not feeling you

Leave a nigga stressed, like making beats with long interludes

If you only knew what I went through just to get here

Walking through the night dangerous, couldn't see clear

Niggas say they got me on the way like they gon' be there

No longer in my circle, guess them niggas choose to be square

I had to learn a lesson

When you grow, ya friends will lessen

Right now I'm just debating, is that a curse or a blessing?

Niggas young and adolescent, they hating progression

Losers only mad because I got the winning method

[Chorus]

I put twenty on the wrist just to feel alive

I got sticks inside the car, too many niggas dying

All these niggas like cassettes 'cause they be flipping sides

Real ones dead and gone, that shit hard to find

You ain't even got a car, but say that you would ride

You won't even ride for you, so I know that you lying

I can tell you gon' switch, I see it in your eyes

Real ones getting rare, that shit hard to find

[Verse 2]

Where the real niggas at the one that still believe in loyalty?

Purple blood in my veins 'cause a nigga feel like royalty

Niggas slick as Kheri curls, I'm shining just like some oil sheen

Rotten eggs with the blessing 'cause I swear the lord be spoiling me

Long blicks, hockey sticks, a nigga ready for the face off

A nigga hit a home run through the bases, watch me take off

Man mother fuck the money and the fame, I'm still gon' praise god

And all these idols with these titles, I would never praise y'all

Not tryna be the best, I'm just tryna share my story

Getting consolation prizes seven rings, no Robert Horry

Moe Shalizi like my Shaq, I pass the ball, he score it for me

Got like forty-five hits and there's more in the inventory

[Chorus]

I put twenty on the wrist just to feel alive

I got sticks inside the car, too many niggas dying

All these niggas like cassettes 'cause they be flipping sides

Real ones dead and gone, that shit hard to find

You ain't even got a car, but say that you would ride

You won't even ride for you, so I know that you lying

I can tell you gon' switch, I see it in your eyes

Real ones getting rare, that shit hard to find