From a ass little tadpole swimmin in a fallopian tube To a fixture on my soil, a stand up type a I was brought up in the crack dealin and pushin that stuff with my folkers cause we loved eachother so much Ditchin and dodgin the rollers, grippin the block real Strikin and scootin Novas and them Chevrolet stepside trucks Me and my Dennel, Kevin, Dalon, and Black Little Ray, Billy, and Ivory and them the Magazine Street camp Posted up like thumbtacks, on faulty big backs Motorola, A1 yola, glad bag fulla Tic In the mean time, in between time, in my spare writin raps In the front yard, in the driveway, on the shootin craps
You you know, but you really don't have no idea Listen to discography of E40, talk for real Moons ago, way before I even had a I got my on the turf for drinking hecka beer And never letting the older up in my hood pump fear Funkin my own soil, listen here Jealous cause we had all the and all the gear Up the ladder I'm to climb, game sharper than a porcupine spine Don't gimme nothing, I'ma for mine, try and grind, grit and grind Hot ones echo through the ghetto, all the time I thank the Lord for giving me the gift to spit rhyme
A loaf of bread, a stick of butter and some Around the corner from the spot where all the dealers and tribul-i-zations, me and my peopl-i-zations Tryin to get this music off the ground with high ass Took a little time and patience, a faith in God To make a long story short, look at me now I'm it chubby like the checker, chunky like the soup A de- a and a half 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 listening too I the way for the independent grind The industry they me, but don't wanna gimme mine