Friday afternoon, we in Jumah facin' Meccah

You ain't gotta do much to my fam to make me wet ya

You ain't gotta nothing at all, I'll party wit ya

When the mob give a mobsta a call, I gotta get ya

Here's a message from my nigga I was sent to deal with ya

A hit man yeah I'm walking 'round with ya picture

At all your hang outs won't be long 'for I catch ya

Comin' out the store, scope you out then I whop you yo

Yeah nigga turn your head into sloppy Joe

Caught up in the world, doin' this against my own kind

Pops in the pen killin' niggas over phone time

Moms blowin' stones I'm on my own, came from a long line

Of gangster and thugs, hittin' banks and sellin' drugs

But blame it on the bad guy, when all I ever wanted to be was mad fly

Every time I close my eyes I realize that I probably should

Slow it down blood and get my mind back