To get my green,
I'd sell all seven of the seed
Then I'd double back to the ghetto,
and give the homies what they need
Whether it be weed or eat
the frontin' niggas' cheese
See to me it's either shoot you
some baskets to move some keys
What the fuck you mean when you scream
children and their dreams
Consists of either raffin' playin'
for somebody's team
That's what we need,
another nigga livin' check to check
Speakin' out in disrespect toward
the ones who took the step
To get they ass about
a fucked up situation
While you satisfied with minimum
wages and steady agin'
And hatin',
statin' that fast cash don't last
But at the same time,
you're quick to ask a nigga for his autograph
Or heart at last,
but instead I count my blessings
Knowin' good and damn well,
I could've been the one that's out here stressin'
Or askin' questions, concerned about what another
nigga got in
I know this nigga had more cheese than
Green
Bay and he stayed about two
blocks down the
Southern sittin' on so much green,
you would think he was a landscaper
Huh, and this an easy caper
Fucked around and caught him slippin',
drivin' a white expedition
Pullin' out a
Kentucky fried chicken,
I'm shippin'
Christian
As I follow him home, soon as he get out,
run up on him with the chrome
Let's go in this house,
and take me straight to the safe
Didn't know we had a spouse,
I shot the bitch in the face
It ain't gon' get no safe up,
open the motherfuckin' safe up
You could either get taped up or bust,
nigga, for this paper
I need it to a bag of green sprilla
I'll run over hoes like
Jerome
Bettis for my lettuce
Then I'll bleed the block anemic
style and don't bother all us
I'm trying to flip a range with crash
bars and the spoilers
Banana yellow,
cause the moral ain't promised
My
T -word 40 years ain't
never been to the
Bahamas
Real rappers dying,
so -called rappers live with they mamas
Who the number one is,
man, got to see a one with the commas
I love the drama, look at your rollie,
how much time remaining?
How much stressing and straining,
no maintaining?
Fuck working 60 years complaining
Mind ain't gone and the weed
got my brain straining
They get your paypal you promise,
so today I'm getting my paypal
I feel like rolling when the breeze is blowing,
counting
G's player
Shot callers and true ballers,
save some for later
I'm rolling when the breeze is blowing,
counting
G's player
Duck in the streets,
place my mind back in the ghetto maze
Understand that sun rays
only bring brighter days
When shining the blaze,
from the pistol was almost blinding
Now I think die,
cause there's too many bullets flying
by
G tearin' up the trees behind me
got weed runnin' and rollin'
unsure where we supposed to
be these bullshit
get you some paper you niggas
y gots to freeze
this no reason to flee
quick and get right back at my cheese
bitch and leave this
whole shit for hoes to play
cause y don't wanna see me click
and pop this clip inside my shit
and clip your rolls today for grave sites
day or night get filled to
fit your ass right
when the chips get chips ass get tight
hypes get pissed and wanna fight
smoke your pipe
I mix a step up on that shit
cook it up and then came up with this
It's only the gettin'
So today I'm gettin' my paper
Feel like rollin' the breeze
is blowin'
Countin'
G's player
Shot callers and true ballers
Save some for later
For rollin' when the breeze
is blowin'
Countin'
G's player
Later tomorrow
Ain't promise till the day
I'm gettin' my paper
Feel like rollin' when the breeze
is blowin'
Countin'
G's player
Shot callers and true ballers
Save some for later
For rollin' when the breeze
is blowin'
Countin'
G's player