Lyrics:
coming at you like Freddy
I put my blood, sweat, and tears for my dreams by moving steady
I train like I'm a Jedi, I'm coming in red hot
Trapped in my mind
muffins, I’ll make coffee, I’ll sell insurance door-to-door
I’ll sort clothing, I’ll deliver pizza, I’ll answer telephones all day
As long as you are payin
going down the highway
I guess it was around 3:30 in the morning
He could hardly see the road with tears in his eyes
He could barely see the sign that
sleeves.
Four-door swoosh made by Nike.
Drop-top jumpan suit, by Mike E.
Got to like my player, I'm in it for the dough.
I'm in it for show, matter fact
it down in 3
And you ballin' ass niggaz whose dressed to kill
For the hoes showin' the toes with extra heels
I gotta get in, I drove here
With
made three, NYC
Where the suffocatin' of dreams lurk behind the steel beams
On the Bowery, fiends cowering, tourists love not to see
On the train we
high saw rolling screen
Fuck the temptation, she goes down on the pole
How you being tough ,you get moved by a blown
Look before you open the right
Woke up this mornin,
Clock said I was late for school,
Teacher told me "that's not cool"
Gotta put my shirt and pants on,
Flew down the front
Unlimited pistols but that shotgun cheap and cheerful
My hitters tryna do it like Beanie Sigel
Get down or lay it down (bah, bah)
Get down or lay it down
happen once more.
For I feel like a train on a perilous track,
With no way to stop, and no way to go back.
Like a snowball that's gathering speed down
Talking down on me because I try keeping it real
I’ve got a message, they don’t listen, you don’t know how it feels
Born and raised in kennington,
State
In a yellow six-deuce with the purple plates
I dip and dodge, I hit three and roll
Fish and chips, bounce pass down to Pau Gasol
We don't give
make suits sue me, ah
Nine to five like Uzi stepping down from racks
I'm with my fucking guys and gals, pussy
I don't take it like a ride or die 'cause
blank rage, they shot him and took his life
(Y)
Yusef Hawkins was shot down
In 1989, by some racist clowns
(Z)
Zamiel Crawford was chased to his
recede, crapping
Grass coming closer to me (Trampoline, catch me!)
Speed increases force down by the second
Land on the trampoline somehow naked
Surrounded
house got wind
By the threatiness of his death threats I could sense he felt chagrined
He tracked me down at the Riviera as I was about to say I do
to think that I was God
Really just had hella help
If there's one way I can go
I ain't goin by myself
Yeah
Down
Smoke THC-O, feelin like CP3- "oh"
Double
city sweltering hot
Staggering, drunker than those cops that 2Pac shot
I was a crook by the train with that iron thing, concealed
Reaching, soon as I
in one-ninety black Benz
Now they shut down the stores when I'm shopping
Used to be train robbing, face covered in stocking
I'm him
Chain
like wood shop, I keep like two or three
Plus my bitch body in tip-top, I push the Masi' in flip flops
I run around with this big Glock
Drive through
as hell, and the judge was a ho
Finna slap me with assault cause I threw my ex-wife to the floor
An inmate going to trial, standing next to the door
Behind
down
From this point on
You the one I trust now
I’m at the pan handle, up the road doing time
Smoking squares thinking how I got this 3 to 5
I’m reading
than a fucking lightpost
I sold a lot of crack but I bought the most
Now I'm a basehead down on my luck
Roaming the streets and got hit by a Mack Truck
bang Big B in my face, my nigga
By mornin', I'ma check 'em out this bitch
Bean bag, know that gon' make this bitch
Lock down 'til the whole line get
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