Poza Rick Hyde (Ft. Rome Streetz)

[Intro]
Where the hell you think I got this money from? The Bay?

[Verse 1: Rome Streetz]
Yo, check it
Was really doin' dirt, nigga, your story got no validity (Nah)
We aim to live regal off of illegal activity (Uh-huh)
Caught in a trap, mami sent the commissary slips to me (Love you, ma)
Came home on the same bullshit, no diggity (Yeah)
Now the raps I spit got my wrists all glittery (Bling)
Niggas who fell off they shit watch me style in misery (Hahaha)
Niggas who was never on hopin' they could sit with me (Fuck outta here)
Old clientele still asking for a sixty piece
Of the shit that'll lock his jaw when he grit his teeth
My homie go to his board soon, I hope he get released (Free my nigga)
It's funny how niggas who want the most get the least
This rap shit is my bitch, her neck is in a leash
RZA said protect ya neck, the TEC is in the fleece (Uh-huh)
First, it was drugs, now we investin' in tech and cryptocurrency (What else?)
I want everything I came to get and some of your piece
Young and dumb thinkin' life's a sprint, I was runnin' the streets
Now I aim to put my fork deep in somethin' to eat
New thousand dollar Dior sneaks cover my feet
I feel better dripped in fly garments
I seen plenty bands sellin' psychedelics out of my apartment
Was Metro card, now a nigga foreign car-parkin' (Skrrt)
You lames talkin' 'bout a game that you play no part in (Fuck outta here)
You watch from the nosebleeds, I'm point guard startin' (It's Ricky)
All-star, got the vision like a army marksman, nigga