[Verse 1]
In this life that we live, they say it's kill or be killed
That's why I stress to my pops, I gotta get me some steel
I turned 18 there's no more squabs, shit is real
If n***as wanna get to riffing, they'll be mixing with Smith and...
I stopped sleeping, started living off adrenaline
Soul of a hustler, heart of a Minute Man
I can't fuck with too many n***as, too many n***as is hoes
I don't pray for my fools dog, I prey on my fools
You got your friends and you got your n***as that's down to ride
You got your mans and you got them n***as that run and hide
Sometimes you only got your own and ain't words in mind
And everyone's exposed when you face the hardest times
Cause when the beef hit, n***as sleep quick
All that talk about that street shit? (Psh) yall hit feet quick
Walking through these city blocks, these n***as shine like beacons
Usually the first n***as that get sent to the deacons, Lord!
Shit is breezy, made me wanna mask every night
Hoodied up, plotting under street lights, getting bent
Keep that crucifix around my neck
Lord you know my soul so I repent
Late night, bed side, hands clenched
Keep that crucifix around my neck
Lord you know my soul so I repent
Late night, wide awake, cold sweat
[Verse 2]
Feelin' in my melanin, all this shit these n***as tellin' me dog
This job train mad slow, and my ticket ain't gone get me home
Holla back at big homie, like "n***a go ahead and put me on"
My pockets mad thick, and I don't know if I can hold down much longer
I had my head in the clouds and my foot on the corner
They said I was ten toes down, and five away from the coroner
When yo brother doing dirty and yo nephew a gang banger
My other brother lost his job and thinking 'bout coke slanging
Now he was straight for his traps, it's a seven year bid
With no job, in this mess, how he gone pay for his meds?
And these n***as rapping, make this shit look so easy
That's why I smoke so many blacks and listen to so much Jeezy
Cause this n***a did more for Philly, than Hanks or Denzel
It's only half of what twitter says, and the other half is what the pen tells
And stop comparing me to these n***as
And all that slick talk on twitter got me wanting to air some of these n***as
And n***as down with Hit-Boy, but where's yo hits boy?
Tell these n***as what my momma told me: you ain't shit boy

[Verse 3]
N***as bitchin' and they mad cause no one listening
Talk that shit then kick that "You from Philly? I love Philly man!"
What should I worry for my tape ain't even done yet
I'm doing all these shows, fucking these hoes, you having fun yet?
But like my bros said, yeah good can be better
T-shirt can be a sweater, that denim can be some leather
That Benz could be a Bentley and yeah it's nice and so cal
But I heard that southern France has some much better weather damn
Grande can't have his own shine for once?
N***as wanna ride my wave, and rock my stage, and smoke my blunts
But like my mans said n***as dirty behind ya back
And talk filthy, face-to-face smiles and shakes you, still guilty
I'd rather be on the box for rocking than in a text book
Nine to five money slope, look at how my check look
My mind playing tricks on me, this shit sick homie
I worked my way from 20 sacks to flipping bricks homie
[Verse 4]
Had to put that hustle down, come back down again
Stomach start to grumble now, lost a couple pounds and shit
Played at different ball parks, found a new mound to pitch
Bars is what I spit so many nights I get tired of shit
Corny n***as say they support steady lying and shit
Swallow my pride before tears, crying and shit
And I can't even trust these shorties, act fake, look real
Trust no bitch, even Atalya kills
I knew n***as be jealous, it was too over-zealous
Made a lane in the game there ain't shit that you can tell him
I am what I am, and I do what I do
I keep a nine over the shoulders and one for the red and blue
Keep a extra in these jeans, can't see an end to these means
I recognize my mistakes, but I never regret a thing
I am what I am, and I do what I do
I keep a nine over the shoulders and one for the red and blue
Keep a extra in these jeans, can't see an end to these means
I recognize my mistakes, but I never regret a thing