[ VERSE 1: Eightball ]
Eightball the Fat Mac must express
While a nigga's gettin zooted from the potent-ass sess
Lookin back, damn, I was wild as a juvenile
Mama showed love and she struggled for her only child
But like my dad I was stuck in the streets
I never wanted to work hard, cause that shit ain't for me
Back then only 16, ignorant and curious
Mom's gettin periods cause I wasn't serious
I said fuck school teachers and the church preachers
I wanted to hang with my niggas with the street sweepers
Back in the days sellin herbs on the [Name]
Me and Squeaky doin city-wide talent shows
Gettin dissed, gettin pissed cause of this shit
Cause it's so hard in this muthafuckin business
I said many times, "Mama, I'ma make you proud"
But I could never leave the thug life of Orange Mound
I'm on the corner drinkin Thunderbird, slingin rocks
They in my hands cause the cops know 'bout the matchbox
But I can't sell dope, rappin is the way, gee
And this is just another day around the homies
[ VERSE 2: MJG ]
..mid day, I was deep into a sleep
Unconscious from that hay that they distribute on em streets
My world was constantly spinnin from the Rmy that was in me
And we ain't half-stepped on them blunts, we chiefed up plenty
A penny to be earned in a day is what I'm looking for
Hopin for, some kind of way to make a little more ducats
Fuck it, shit that I just needed, I just stuck it
Up, hell, nigga might as well
Proceed to hustle like a p-i-m-p
MJ fuckin G
The nigga with the muthafuckin clout, no doubt
The pimps is in the muthafuckin house
Be up out [Name], black folk is takin over
You know how I know? Gimme the mic and I show ya
I teach ya, I reach ya with this pimpalis
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