[Intro: Boldy James]
I had a hard time in life, trying to come up
Blocks, Marci
I had a hard time in life, trying to come up
ConCreatures, let's get it
[Verse 1: Boldy James]
It's been a long hard struggle and an even longer grind
Since I learned how to hustle, I've been eating off the rind
In the concrete jungle where they feed you to the lions
Only nigga getting money 'sides Heemy and Laron
On the Southfield Service Drive, North M-39
Percy the Prince of Persia, Cheese, he the don
And Dee-Dee keep the iron, I'm pretty sure once before
You done met my neighbors, now it's time to meet the Cons
In these streets mainline, it's mafia, what else?
M-A-P, Game Time, that's a honor of travail
Hundred-thousand-dollar bill, nigga, this shit is real
Tryna bond out of jail on ten percent of a mil'
When you looking at an L, getting blamed
For everything under the sun 'cept the niggas that you killed
Sitting in my cell, thinking bout the hit
Now every time I dream about the shit, I get the chills
Waking up in hot sweats, gripping steel
Living in the projects, missing meals
Eating a gas station combo, that's a cigarill'
Pack of squares, some Mambas and a ginger ale
But now I'm tipping scales, boes coming in the mail
And at the end of the day, I'm tryna pin a tail
I got that white girl, and I don't kiss and tell
I had a hard time in life, trying to come up
Blocks, Marci
I had a hard time in life, trying to come up
ConCreatures, let's get it
[Verse 1: Boldy James]
It's been a long hard struggle and an even longer grind
Since I learned how to hustle, I've been eating off the rind
In the concrete jungle where they feed you to the lions
Only nigga getting money 'sides Heemy and Laron
On the Southfield Service Drive, North M-39
Percy the Prince of Persia, Cheese, he the don
And Dee-Dee keep the iron, I'm pretty sure once before
You done met my neighbors, now it's time to meet the Cons
In these streets mainline, it's mafia, what else?
M-A-P, Game Time, that's a honor of travail
Hundred-thousand-dollar bill, nigga, this shit is real
Tryna bond out of jail on ten percent of a mil'
When you looking at an L, getting blamed
For everything under the sun 'cept the niggas that you killed
Sitting in my cell, thinking bout the hit
Now every time I dream about the shit, I get the chills
Waking up in hot sweats, gripping steel
Living in the projects, missing meals
Eating a gas station combo, that's a cigarill'
Pack of squares, some Mambas and a ginger ale
But now I'm tipping scales, boes coming in the mail
And at the end of the day, I'm tryna pin a tail
I got that white girl, and I don't kiss and tell
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