[Production by Thelonious Martin]

(Intro)

Take your fucking shoes off if they got mud on 'em nigga (Yo fresh make sure you get that shit about the shoes my nigga)

[Verse 1 ]

Yo, It's like the world kept spinning and bitch niggas died

The Moon was full, the mood was kinda odd

I put the car in drive, turn up the light, then I spark the lye

Sport the garments that was hard to find

'Lo sport when I'm stepping out the soirée

In and out, no time to parley, right out the doorway

Seeing no need to be seen, collect and disappear

Bread, slide out the back like I was never there

Irish goodbyes, no daps for my departure

Another drug dealer turned author

Still sell work out the barber

I figure stop, why bother?

Rather toss Fifties and grams to my little mans

Hit my Patterson niggas off with a brick of tan

Niggas still hustle for so and so

I had some coke, you had to cut or you would overdose

I think I might of killed a fiend when I was sixteen

But thats another story, honey bourbon roll a 40

I be higher than giraffe pussy

Had to let off broad day at the last pussy

[Hook]

Nigga this that murder that you ride to

Pockets full of cracks, with your burner right beside you

If a nigga act up, oh well, bad luck

Hit him in the head, leave that pussy nigga dead

Or they'll do that shit to you, you gotta learn lil nigga

Cause the bullets really hurt and they burn lil nigga

So keep that shit in mind before they leave it on the floor

I had your moms at the church crying, screaming at the lord

[Verse 2]

Niggas still talking fights like it's tenth grade

You can catch this hot lead before you catch fades

But don't get it fucked up, I knocked some niggas out

Run and front a nigga moms in front a nigga house

Nigga I been with the shits since like potty training

I sold crack before weed and that's a honest statement

I was smoking sour in the county jail

Microwave burnt some bread just to hide the smell

Illest young nigga under twenty-three

By twelfth grade, nigga moved about twenty P's

Couples times I fucked my money up and got it back

Sometimes I thank the lord for dope and that's a honest fact

This for my nigga bracking cards, balling, popping tags

For all my niggas that burn their fingers on them plastic bags

Fuck all of you other niggas

Might get to jumping off the stage and get to jumping niggas

[Hook]

Nigga this that murder that you ride to

Pockets full of cracks, with your burner right beside you

If a nigga act up, oh well, bad luck

Hit him in the head, leave that pussy nigga dead

Or they'll do that shit to you, you gotta learn lil nigga

Cause the bullets really hurt and they burn lil nigga

So keep that shit in mind before they leave it on the floor

I had your moms at the church crying, screaming at the lord