(*talking*)Warning, the men you are about to hearYou shouldn't have access to, the subject mattersIndividuals on this c.d., is unleasedInto the public, may cause a nationwide in power[Fiend]What up, you just started up a legacySurvival for the hopeful, chapters full of recipesRemember this feeling, when a good nigga is mentionedClose your mouth, if you can't help his conditionsI hustled, till the pain became funnyMuscle any damn thing, just to gain us moneyUs money, how could I blame a living soulThe grind called on me, like you could be getting mo'So I hit the slab, like Cab Shorty and BinoSeven days, 24 like Harra's CasinoGot a daughter, on the wayDown to this last, little quarter of the yayHurry up, you're acting funny all dayBut I never had my eggs in one batchThat's like thinking, they just made one gatIn every crew, there's at least one ratWho, wanna bet a hundred G's on that(*talking*)Yeah man, I got the bootleg copy ya heard meI listen to them niggas manMy hustle game is just surprise, you heard meI stopped smoking that dirt, all I smoke is that purple nowYa heard me, can't get me none of that[Fiend]My love life is dust, wake up getting itThug what the fuss, sitting here missing itEvery moment without it, moving to an exponentI just think on the sets, and many threats that want itDepressed, at distanceI travel like my family, no existenceUntil I get that call from my baby, like tonightAnd she like I know what you doing, you in the studio right-rightTell her I love her, jump up off the jackTo the swamps, where I could dump off this crackI'ma make a lump sum, off of thatI call it parallel parking, it'll make you ok come on backI might drop me a solo, I might change my nameThe cops calling us polo, it's Mike of the gameKnee deep in it, where's the devotionAnd remember, jealousy is a wasted emotion(*talking*)Yeah man look shit, we all gotta pass you knowI told my niggas, look I'm engaged to youBut look, I'm married to these fucking streetsThat's what I love, these fucking streets[Corner Boy P]Straight from the cracks, of Flay StreetWhen the sound of breaks squeak, will have you hopping gates to the next streetAddicts coming for crack, and they'll pay you on next weekNigga I want it now, I want the coupe and the Porsche jeepI'm doper than when niggas, putting balloonsThe scent was too loud, I couldn't hide the drawer in the roomAnd I'm comfortable, so when I jab I connectAnd that dirty money, kept a nigga clean so fresh[Fiend]And thanks I'm giving, 'fore the streets started calling O's butterballsVick's want a slice, but gotta wait till I cut it dogMy day and night time, gig have a gunning ballAnd mostly keep heat, not turning the oven offHot pitching cool, some of New OrleansWith hood honorable mentions, and everyone of us ballingMy threads real cost, and this a guard got still pauseAnd when the dial got made, I feel lost(*talking*)Warning, the men you are about to hearYou shouldn't have access to, the subject mattersIndividuals on this c.d., is unleasedInto the public, may cause a nationwide in power
