[Verse 1]

I got this coffee pot of white soap

Stuck my hanger down the center

When I entered I spent it cause it was like dope

But on the real-a he was jackin' me for scratch

'Cause out of 36 ounces this motherfucker brought me 20 back

I'm slanging 20 sacs cause I done lost 16

And these goddamn streets ain't going to bring me back

Now could it be the Southside big baller

Bolo rock slanger stones done got slaughtered-damn

I'm going up on my whole thangs

And stepped on don't go runnin my clique cause it's a cold game

And all I ever wanted was some hundred stacks

I went from slangin' O-Z's to movin' hundred sacks

Gotta make my money back

'Cause I done came too far up in these goddamn streets

To get my money snatched

I'm so for real about my motherfuckin' skrill

That any obstacle obscuring my paper is gettin' killed

For real

[Scratched Hook]

"All I have in this world...balls"

[Verse 2]

I know this nigga run the game of life

So motherfuckin sheist that at night he gots to sleep with lights

Cause he done come across with shit so shadey

That mutha fuckers comin with clips to locate him

Ain't no waitin and once they spot him they gon' sure waste him

And once the got him they gon' sure waste him

This ain't no mutha fuckin joke nigga it ain't worth it

And even if your mother gets in it you can't surface

It was all purpose

Just like that bullshit you was serving it was all purpose

We all chipped in nigga and we all hurting

I gots to grind just like in eighty-nine

When a niggas 25 cent pieces look just like baby dimes

I'm on the corner selling whole eights

I don't remember being this fuckin paranoid since I sold weight

I went from 50 sacs to 50 packs

And all because this motherfucker got jipped he wants to jip me back

But when I find him I'm gon' finalize

Just to let a nigga know I'm for real and down to die for mine

And I'm for real about this muthafuckin skrill

And any obstacle obscuring my paper is gettin killed

For real

[Scratched Hook]

"All I have in this world...balls"

[Verse 3]

Game made a big shift since '86 when I started

Seems like niggas with hustle got outsmarted

'Cause now they wanna analyze they homies for scratch

Catch them when they sleeping come down and up scrap

And even though I plotted hittin' niggas for ends

I never took out straps and shot gats at friends

It was all about being for real where I was from

Where very few niggas came real but I was one

I dedicate this to my homies stuck in battle

Living life being caught up in this muthafuckin' gamble

The game made to be changed but the niggas still started

Cocaine seems to be blamed for the niggas gettin slaughtered

How many times you had your homie shot

By the same muthafucker whose gang came from your homie's block

Niggas get caught up in the paper chase

And lose respect for the game

That was honored before the cake was made

[Scratched Hook]

"All I have in this world...balls"