[Intro]

Gun full of ammo, got me feelin’ like Rambo

Smokin’ on that loud, my eyes low like a Lambo

Everywhere I go they like, “You be killin’ that [?]”

All these cases of Chris got me feelin’ like [?]

Feelin’ like [?]

And all these cases of Chris got me feelin’ like [?]

[Verse]

These are my roots, I came from [?]

Niggas shoot from the hip [?] from the booth

Hangin’ out the window whilst I scream “What it do?”

Get the number, get the ass, bada bing, bada boom

The blacker the berry, the sweeter the juicе

My vet bitch blacker than the mothafuckin’ [?]

Hеr head game mean, and her pussy is a nuke

My bad, let’s get back to my mothafuckin’ roots

My dad wasn’t ‘round much

I was raised from the streets, from the ground up

And I was taught wasn’t nobody gon’ give me shit

That’s when I met that white girl, labeled town slut

And I shared her with other niggas ‘cause I knew behind my back she was fuckin’ with them all anyway

So I got what I could out her

Millyon Dollar Vision, baby, that was good powder

And I stood hours

I aim and I shoot, reload and repeat

Bitch, I’ma die by the cold of these streets

When kids get to dyin’, you know it’s some beef

[?] saved by the bell, I put [?]

Fuck towels, make a nigga throw in some sheets

I break smiles, make a nigga throw up some teeth

This ain’t 8 Mile, I don’t get cold in the feet

Nigga, say it with your chest, act grown when you speak

Been rappin’ for years, why you can’t make a hit?

You ain’t ready to die, why you actin’ like B.I.G? (Huh)

Why you actin’ like B.I.G?

Yo’ mans is a bitch and you actin’ like him

I stand on my own, bitch, I’m possessed

All you fuckboys need to give it a rest

Bitch I’m the best, fuck what you rep

Dawg, and that’s word to the shit on my chest (Easy)