Baby Gap

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Hybrid Theroy, Linkin park playing in the deck
His parents getting divorced, so of course he’s upset 
He hides behind a smile cause he’s waiting for what’s next
The intuition of his future’s like a feeling in chest 
He feels it that he’s special, but there’s bullshit on the way
Started going to middle school & started puffing haze 
Saving up his lunch money, just to get a fifth 
They hit Schneider’s, buy the potters & a bottled Sunkist 
Only 13, he was hanging with the grown folks
They taught him how to drink & they taught him how to rope the doe
You flip the dope, spend a little & let the rest stack 
He sold his first sack & he ain’t never look back 
He fucked his first bitch, so on his mind is pussy
Money, weed & a few new drug remedies   
He would umpire little league to make a quick buck
Then flip it to a jar, hit the party, make it jump 
Walked inside the party & his homies dapped him up 
He told em I got press, if need you some, hit me up
Kept 20, bagged 80 & he sold em all down 
He was looking for his homie 
Homie stomping someone out 
Only 15 with captain Morgan in his cup
No goals, no school, his priorities all fucked 
If someone pipe his bitch, he wouln’t give a f*ck 
He just wants to break even 
So he can go re up 
Yuh 


This another story of an Oceanside kid
That grew up drinking fifths & no one can tell him shit (tell em shit)
Hit the plug, grab the zip 
Hit the party, serve the hits (ya)
Quick to make a play 
& he quick to mack a bitch (mack a bitch)

This another story of an Oceanside kid
That grew up drinking fifths & no one can tell him shit (tell em shit)
Hit the plug, grab the zip 
Hit the party, serve the hits (ya)
Quick to make a play 
& he quick to mack a bitch (mack a bitch)


Now he’s 16,
Sleeping on his grandma’s couch
Recording in the closet 
Aiming for that 16 ounce 
All he do is party 
Its getting hard to touch a pound 
Fake friends turned they back 
They rather burn some bridges down
Festival hitting
Carefree living
19, an open case
A mistake, self given
Couple close calls with his PO
He finally learned his lesson 
He was looking at this life through a peephole
Went & picked the key hole 
& got out up the game
Tatted on his skin 
Baptized in acid rain
Lost a couple bitches 
But those bitches brought him pain 
Lost a couple homies 
But he won’t forget their names 
Now he’s 24
Future brighter than before 
Give him 4 years more 
He’ll be flying, doing tours 
Of course, he knows what happens if he fails, & fucks up
It’s back to yola sales, 
With the baggies & the scales 
Ya


This another story of an Oceanside kid
That grew up drinking fifths & no one can tell him shit (tell em shit)
Hit the plug, grab the zip 
Hit the party, serve the hits (ya)
Quick to make a play 
& he quick to mack a bitch (mack a bitch)

This another story of an Oceanside kid
That grew up drinking fifths & no one can tell him shit (tell em shit)
Hit the plug, grab the zip 
Hit the party, serve the hits (ya)
Quick to make a play 
& he quick to mack a bitch (mack a bitch)

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