From a small ass little tadpole in a fallopian tube To a fixture on my soil, a up type a dude I was brought up in the crack game dealin and that stuff Arguing with my folkers cause we loved eachother so Ditchin and dodgin the rollers, grippin the block tuff Strikin and scootin them Novas and them Chevrolet stepside Me and my brother Dennel, Kevin, Dalon, and Little Ray, Billy, and Ivory and them from the Magazine camp up like thumbtacks, talking on faulty big backs Motorola, A1 yola, bag fulla Tic Tacs In the mean time, in between time, in my spare writin raps In the front yard, in the driveway, on the concrete craps
You think you know, but you really don't have no Listen to discography of E40, real for real Moons ago, way I even had a career I got my nickname on the turf for drinking beer And never letting the cats up in my hood pump fear Funkin with my own soil, here Jealous cause we had all the broads and all the Up the ladder I'm tryin to climb, game sharper than a porcupine Don't gimme nothing, I'ma work for mine, try and grind, and grind Hot ones echo the ghetto, funkin all the time I thank the for giving me the gift to spit this rhyme
A loaf of bread, a of butter and some milk Around the corner from the spot where all the dealers Trials and tribul-i-zations, me and my Tryin to get this off the ground with high ass expectations Took a time and patience, a little faith in God To make a story short, look at me now sahob I'm doing it chubby like the checker, chunky the soup A de- a and a half and still in the loop In you suckers didn't know, I told you once before I ain't too fast, see y'all just listening too slow I paved the way for the grind The industry they me, but don't wanna gimme mine