[Verse 1: Jiles]
I just pulled up in that whatchacallit
Fiends on the block, it ain't designer
Tube sock is their favorite wallet
I remember seein' my older cousin cracked out on my mama sofa
Slept for three days, his body slumped over (Facts)
I'm on a different tax bracket
Still the same nigga fuckin' hoes on the air mattress
Off hand doing calisthenics, got the hood jumping
National Grid outside, we light the stove oven, real shit
What is life? I'm in studio with my rap peers
That Carhartt stab-proof, with it, feel like Paul Pierce
Posted on the block with them lawn chairs
Gossiping about getting money, bad hoеs, and who out here, I'm out herе
[Chorus: Jiles]
If this was nine-four, I would've got five mics
If this was nine-four, I would've got five mics
Fuck The Source, little nigga, I'm the source for real
Fuck The Source, little nigga, I'm the source for real
[Verse 2: Ricky Felix]
I was on the Eastside picking dimes, ripping rhymes
Hoping God ain't let me die
Niggas tried to take me off the earth (For real)
Walkin' up on niggas after school tryna catch the work
Them boys were fuckin' spooked, though
Hangin' with my CVs, fuckin' on a lil' puto
Police tryna kill the folk (Yeah)
Hangin' on my fuckin' hawk, them lil' niggas gettin' poked
I was dead broke chasin' dollars
Please don't take me out my mode
Motherfuckers tryna take me out my zone
But I ain't tripping, though
I just pulled up in that whatchacallit
Fiends on the block, it ain't designer
Tube sock is their favorite wallet
I remember seein' my older cousin cracked out on my mama sofa
Slept for three days, his body slumped over (Facts)
I'm on a different tax bracket
Still the same nigga fuckin' hoes on the air mattress
Off hand doing calisthenics, got the hood jumping
National Grid outside, we light the stove oven, real shit
What is life? I'm in studio with my rap peers
That Carhartt stab-proof, with it, feel like Paul Pierce
Posted on the block with them lawn chairs
Gossiping about getting money, bad hoеs, and who out here, I'm out herе
[Chorus: Jiles]
If this was nine-four, I would've got five mics
If this was nine-four, I would've got five mics
Fuck The Source, little nigga, I'm the source for real
Fuck The Source, little nigga, I'm the source for real
[Verse 2: Ricky Felix]
I was on the Eastside picking dimes, ripping rhymes
Hoping God ain't let me die
Niggas tried to take me off the earth (For real)
Walkin' up on niggas after school tryna catch the work
Them boys were fuckin' spooked, though
Hangin' with my CVs, fuckin' on a lil' puto
Police tryna kill the folk (Yeah)
Hangin' on my fuckin' hawk, them lil' niggas gettin' poked
I was dead broke chasin' dollars
Please don't take me out my mode
Motherfuckers tryna take me out my zone
But I ain't tripping, though
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