PART 1
Look, relate to you, I can't if you's a fake nigga
Where Level 4 in the state what your mistakes get you
Rap niggas, they just wanna double date with you
Twitpic and show these hoes that they affiliate with you
Labels used to treatin' rappers like a slave, nigga
Starvin' artist, "Just be happy with your fame, nigga"
Shit changed, now it's such a different game
All the niggas like myself is controlling everything
If you, pay attention see exactly what I mean
Fuck the middleman, I said that in 2003
Was 18, White Lincoln, chrome feet
Black .40 was my pillow, every night I go to sleep
Grown niggas treat me like they OG
Holdin' on to every word that the tiny loc speaks
I had a vision that nobody else could see
Sold my shit to D-Mac, a little less than 10 Gs
Brought my grocery bag of cash back to Blacc Sam
He matched a nigga, next day we went to Sam Ash
We bought a Pro Tools and a microphone
Studio was far from plush but them lights was on
Couple hunned thousand stashed at my mama's home
Real estate in Atlanta, but ain't nobody know
Mac 11s in the safe, hidden in the floor
My bro did it like nobody that I've ever known
Screens on every wall with 16 camera angles
Double pane bulletproof glass pushin' past the haters
Cuban links and Rolexes, fold a check from Epic
This industry ain't gotta like us but they gon' respect it
Built the label up from money we was savin' up
No details 'til the statute of limitations up
Couple niggas got flipped tryna play with us
The demonstrations speak loud so I ain't sayin' much
Was a charismatic nigga, I don't play as much
'Cause life is real when you live it in a place like us
School pictures crackin' smiles, now my face is stuck
Shell shocked to see how much they really hated us
Couldn't keep a kind heart, get yo' hatred up
Streets smarts, nigga, get yo information up
Watching Belly, smokin blunts, take Jamaican puffs
One day I'ma have a house and car like Jamaican cuz
Credits roll, back to stress pound breakin' up
Had to fight before we hustled, and it made us tough
Early '90s, neighbor's rooster used to wake us up
Mama had a bucket and a shack but we ain't make a fuss
Blue Cutlass, no license, .380 tucked
'96 Caprice 'Bolt Da Fatts' was savin up
They gettin' packed out if niggas try fade with us
Crenshaw and Slauson, True Story, Zo, play the drums
Look, relate to you, I can't if you's a fake nigga
Where Level 4 in the state what your mistakes get you
Rap niggas, they just wanna double date with you
Twitpic and show these hoes that they affiliate with you
Labels used to treatin' rappers like a slave, nigga
Starvin' artist, "Just be happy with your fame, nigga"
Shit changed, now it's such a different game
All the niggas like myself is controlling everything
If you, pay attention see exactly what I mean
Fuck the middleman, I said that in 2003
Was 18, White Lincoln, chrome feet
Black .40 was my pillow, every night I go to sleep
Grown niggas treat me like they OG
Holdin' on to every word that the tiny loc speaks
I had a vision that nobody else could see
Sold my shit to D-Mac, a little less than 10 Gs
Brought my grocery bag of cash back to Blacc Sam
He matched a nigga, next day we went to Sam Ash
We bought a Pro Tools and a microphone
Studio was far from plush but them lights was on
Couple hunned thousand stashed at my mama's home
Real estate in Atlanta, but ain't nobody know
Mac 11s in the safe, hidden in the floor
My bro did it like nobody that I've ever known
Screens on every wall with 16 camera angles
Double pane bulletproof glass pushin' past the haters
Cuban links and Rolexes, fold a check from Epic
This industry ain't gotta like us but they gon' respect it
Built the label up from money we was savin' up
No details 'til the statute of limitations up
Couple niggas got flipped tryna play with us
The demonstrations speak loud so I ain't sayin' much
Was a charismatic nigga, I don't play as much
'Cause life is real when you live it in a place like us
School pictures crackin' smiles, now my face is stuck
Shell shocked to see how much they really hated us
Couldn't keep a kind heart, get yo' hatred up
Streets smarts, nigga, get yo information up
Watching Belly, smokin blunts, take Jamaican puffs
One day I'ma have a house and car like Jamaican cuz
Credits roll, back to stress pound breakin' up
Had to fight before we hustled, and it made us tough
Early '90s, neighbor's rooster used to wake us up
Mama had a bucket and a shack but we ain't make a fuss
Blue Cutlass, no license, .380 tucked
'96 Caprice 'Bolt Da Fatts' was savin up
They gettin' packed out if niggas try fade with us
Crenshaw and Slauson, True Story, Zo, play the drums
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