100 and runnin' Always into fuck the police Like I'm up out of Compton Real niggas die for destruction Just a nigga with an into something
Impala on eights, dope on crates Swiss on watch, 45 on the waist Got a million dollar hustle, a nigga face White cocaine, rack it up on the Alpina with the cavalier plates My niggas dribble in VA on the run from the DEA That's when niggas wore ups and white ups like H O V A, and everybody had Ye before & Heartbreak The streets was a tank, put money in the gold link And loyalty was Your lady you down, with or without a wedding ring Selling dope settling If you could smoke it was selling it Hard grind A street nigga pedigree, tryna leave a legacy Pockets fat Ledisi, thank you to the heavenly Father for dollars, I got it straighter than the letter T
100 miles and into something Yelling the police Like I'm straight up out of niggas don't die Appetite for Just a nigga with an Always into
man, dope man, that's what they yelling Pockets full of and an automatic weapon Teenage outlaws, rebels cause Lost in this jungle where is flawed Middle finger to the law, best lay in morgues And they why our attitude's raw A real nigga never take a fall, on god Or take on the false façade Before that niggas blocks getting taked off Appetite for how we all function, and we get it how we live Even if gun busting Number crunching with 8 balls for fiends Anything to keep ribs touching bumping, I blame it on Cube He says it funky, a subject and a predicate F the police, that's a gangster nigga's And nine filled with cop killers that's sitting on my hip
100 miles and into something Yelling the police Like I'm straight up out of Real niggas die for destruction Just a with an attitude Always something