Intro - DJ Blade, Pastor Troy

Just look in my eyes you can tell I’m a G

I ain’t no maybe between it, It’s just plain to see

I done been through it all

And I still stand tall

Done lost more than I gained

But still manage to ball

I’m MVP like Kobe

I made it rich off the streets

And got shot and robbed and did time from the streets

Took trips for bricks and made it right back safe

Done buried two of my brothers thats why I’m strapped with the K

They never said it was easy but me I like the fast cash

Been a boss since birth I had the change and bags

Now thirty some years later I’m still on the same shit

Catch me crossing the border with three bitches with bricks

I’m the neighborhood hero some say I’m an idol

Cause I move so quick and get that paper like Michael

I should’ve went to the pros from high school but no

I found myself in the trap cooking bagging up O’s

Hanging with the old heads I always thought I was grown

That’s why at sixteen years old I was out on my own

Staying house to house I dipped quick for cash

Wasn’t no living and chilling I had to chase that cash

Never been the club type I always wanted that money

While most danced and partied I was counting my money

You may be servin' my

I ran the streets on my own

I didn’t go back in until the dope was gone

Some say I was crazy but me I call it the hustle

They say cash run the world, well then cash is my muscle

I made plays off phones made $ 70,000 at home

Didn’t have to do no footwork I made a call to my clones

AKA my lil' goons don’t get it twisted they killers

Since I’m feeding my circle, Know they will die for a nigga

You ain’t get nowhere if you cross that line

And if it’s about my cash man yo ass is dying

I got a plug out in Cali

Got everything that I want

So when I’m done with my socket

I can go buy what I want

I bought an S550 all black with forgi’s

Rode that bitch though the hood and had multiple orgi’s

You couldn’t do what I do if I gave you my shoes

A lot of you niggas is lost with still something to prove

Don’t know the meaning of stacking

Don’t have a clue about the profit

While love made niggas ballin' they on the sideline watchin

You know them funny ass niggas

That always got something to say

Always flaugin' the bitches

Screaming that they getting paid

But really just in the way

It’s like nobody is straight

Everybody scream team but deep down they gay

Whatever happened to chiefs

Whatever happened to indians

Everybody’s a boss that’s why my young niggas getting 'em

Sticking straps to they face

Kicking doors in, robbing

No runnin' laps 'round you suckas

Nah, foreal I’m joggin'

I do this shit for the hood

I do this shit for the streets

Every time I drop I’m giving you more of me

Uncut foreal no soda just blow

You can cook feed the whole world this blow

I’m gymnastic with white

The God man with weed

I done sold it all

Except heroin and speed

I’m allergic to broke

Thats why I go so hard

And I don’t plan on stopping

Unless it’s a calling from God

All my niggas they huddle up saying Crim' go ham

That’s why I brought you this crack, Blow 3.5 Grams

All my niggas they huddle up saying Crim' go ham

That’s why I brought you this crack, Blow 3.5 Grams

Nigga!