Living in a cracked-out environment Where niggas moving packs in varieties Whatever I ask papi for He knows he’s gotta match my requirements Straps will be firing Next thing you’ll hear batches of sirens Every little nigga wants to rush Get their stash out and buy a ting Been in some fucked up predicaments Where some particulars had me up on some vigilance These niggas went and fucked with originals I draw for the strap and left them fucked up ridiculous These niggas ain’t seen what I have and Nearly lost their life on the field ’cause their gat jammed Clapped man, shit got hectic and I backed man Fucked up life that I’m living as a black man Everybody rates Giggs I could focus on rap but everybody makes hits Nowadays everbody takes sniff I want my stack tight like the dad from Everybody Hates Chris Even though I’m from the flipping ghetto When I go shopping I’m a picky fellow That’s why the stitching in the AJ’s are flipping yellow Then I go home, kick back Blow dro, sip ‘yac Zone out, script wrap Make a phone call, then I strip yats And I ain’t talking bout I’m talking ’bout some look-a-like Halle Berry’s Plus a cognac’s already ready Fling a porno on the screen of my heavy telly
Christ What kinda mixtape is this I know bare niggas out there chatting shit Like they’re on man’s level on this rap ting But obviously, man ain’t making mixtapes like this Where you don’t have to skip shit, you get me I listen to these othese mixtapes out there, bare skippage 1 to 7 to 16! Trust me fam But this is pure quality Hollowman, Blade, we do this ting Mixtapes in 2 weeks it’s nothing Cut that Saj