[Verse 1: Saigon]
I'm gonna need one potato, two potato, three potato, four
Five potato, six potato, seven potatoes born
Some niggas came before me but they never layed the law
A buckin' a suckin' a duckin' a pluckin' a fuckin' takes the ball
Naw, never gonna stall when it's hammer time
Man of mine died, cannon wasn't in his hand in time
Heard you saying pop, on you should stop lyin'
Maybe on hot nine, nigga the block mine
This is serious as a terrorist threat
When it's on I just go without ready cassette
Yet still praying that I never get wet
Oh sweat, early 30s and already a vet, bet
Since I'm on borrowed time, I came with a art of rhyme
Borderline super sayan still spitting the hardest line
Saigon signing out
If you wonder if I live what I rhyme about
You might end up finding out
[Verse 2: Jon Connor]
I itemize the devil's 9 to 5
So I try to find something constructive to do with my time
Fucking with these hoes is gonna have me raising babies that ain't mine
But I guess that's shame on me for thinking that I pulled out in time
Nigga they plot on what they think I got and want it
Truth is they probably holding more than me at this moment
But perception is reality and this shit is real
Cause of that I got to watch my back in spots I used to chill
It's mo money, mo problems and this shit is stressful
And fake friends and fast hoes were put here to test you
It seem I'm to real for the game and too for my niggas
And here I was just trying to put on for my niggas
I'm trying to live swell and hope my head don't swell with it
To eat the devil's pie you've got to take hell with it
So ain't no turning back, I'm just trying to move ahead
And find piece of mind before I lose my head
This shit is real
I'm gonna need one potato, two potato, three potato, four
Five potato, six potato, seven potatoes born
Some niggas came before me but they never layed the law
A buckin' a suckin' a duckin' a pluckin' a fuckin' takes the ball
Naw, never gonna stall when it's hammer time
Man of mine died, cannon wasn't in his hand in time
Heard you saying pop, on you should stop lyin'
Maybe on hot nine, nigga the block mine
This is serious as a terrorist threat
When it's on I just go without ready cassette
Yet still praying that I never get wet
Oh sweat, early 30s and already a vet, bet
Since I'm on borrowed time, I came with a art of rhyme
Borderline super sayan still spitting the hardest line
Saigon signing out
If you wonder if I live what I rhyme about
You might end up finding out
[Verse 2: Jon Connor]
I itemize the devil's 9 to 5
So I try to find something constructive to do with my time
Fucking with these hoes is gonna have me raising babies that ain't mine
But I guess that's shame on me for thinking that I pulled out in time
Nigga they plot on what they think I got and want it
Truth is they probably holding more than me at this moment
But perception is reality and this shit is real
Cause of that I got to watch my back in spots I used to chill
It's mo money, mo problems and this shit is stressful
And fake friends and fast hoes were put here to test you
It seem I'm to real for the game and too for my niggas
And here I was just trying to put on for my niggas
I'm trying to live swell and hope my head don't swell with it
To eat the devil's pie you've got to take hell with it
So ain't no turning back, I'm just trying to move ahead
And find piece of mind before I lose my head
This shit is real
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