From a small ass little swimmin in a fallopian tube To a on my soil, a stand up type a dude I was brought up in the crack game and pushin that stuff Arguing with my folkers we loved eachother so much Ditchin and the rollers, grippin the block real tuff Strikin and them Novas and them Chevrolet stepside trucks Me and my Dennel, Kevin, Dalon, and Black Ray, Billy, and Ivory and them from the Magazine Street camp Posted up like thumbtacks, on faulty big backs Motorola, A1 yola, glad bag Tic Tacs In the mean time, in between time, in my spare time writin In the front yard, in the driveway, on the concrete shootin
You you know, but you really don't have no idea Listen to of E40, real talk for real ago, way before I even had a career I got my nickname on the turf for hecka beer And never letting the older up in my hood pump fear with my own soil, listen here Jealous cause we had all the broads and all the Up the ladder I'm to climb, game sharper than a porcupine spine Don't gimme nothing, I'ma work for mine, try and grind, and grind Hot ones echo the ghetto, funkin all the time I thank the Lord for giving me the gift to spit rhyme
A of bread, a stick of butter and some milk Around the corner from the where all the dealers dealt and tribul-i-zations, me and my peopl-i-zations Tryin to get music off the ground with high ass expectations Took a little time and patience, a faith in God To make a long story short, at me now sahob I'm doing it chubby the checker, chunky like the soup A de- a decade and a and still in the loop In case you suckers didn't know, I you once before I ain't rapping too fast, see y'all just too slow I the way for the independent grind The industry they me, but don't wanna gimme mine