Lirieke:
Bewys

6'n the morning' police at my door Fresh adidas squerk across the bathroom floor Out the back window I make a escape Don't even get a chance to grab my

Come on, come on Do this, ugh, come on, come on Time to get wreck and kick the So on and so on The I C E T, O.G.M.C. L.A.P.D., H A T E (Ho) Watch the

Nobody ever said life was gon' be easy But damn Just a kid, moms died when I was seven Pops died, eleven, what's up with heaven? It's hell when you're

Hustler word I pull the trigger long Grit my teeth spray till every nigga's gone Got my block sewn armored dope spots Last thing I sweat's suc-suc-sucka

Coolin' in my crib, cold video dubbin' FBI wanted? Huh, don't mean nuttin' They call that shit a crime? Yo, that shit's a joke Hit record on my dope remote

I was born in New Jersey, I said it before But I guess nobody heard me, my mother died young No sistas or brothas, I was the only son When I was twelve

This is it, dope from the fly kid The Ice mic is back with the high bid Suckers you've lost 'cause players you're not, gangstas you ain't You're faintin

I can't afford to breathe in this town Nowhere to sit without a gun in my hand Hooked back up to the cathode ray I'm better off dead I'm better off dead

Hit the road in wander mode Inquire along the way Savoir faire in full despair While living day to day My heart is not A cold cauldron of proof I don