I been on the road so long, I forgot what kind of cars I got
I rap so much I forgot what kind of bars I got
Rose in the concrete, grows to the top
Son of a gun, raised by a Glock
Georgia Power was off I was raised in the dark I don’t know if it faze me or not
No telling
If I didn’t turn 15 I wouldn’t have been a felon (I bought it)
I bought the violence in my stick shift
If you don’t shoot or get shot at you ain’t go through adolescents
If you ain’t go through all the pressure, You ain’t get all of your blessings
What you know about not being able to re up going through depression
What you do about aggression, What you do about confession
If it wasn’t for my neighborhood then I wouldn’t be nothing
If it wasn’t for my neighborhood then I wouldn’t be nothing
If it wasn’t for my neighborhood then I wouldn’t be nothing
If it wasn’t for my neighborhood then I wouldn’t be nothing
Crunching numbers with heads
7 figures in Buckhead
I get dough till its enough bread
Money tall so it’s enough said
It was toom poom, Baby amp and big U stand for upset
I can tell you where the plug at he over there where my cuz at Say I’m under the influence I was down stairs where the drugs at 40 cal, 50 cal, even my momma tote a pistol now
They call on that Crenshaw only thing we need is a mister child
You already know what this about, I shouldn’t be riding around with this amount
Cause I can take your bitch with this amount
And take her on a trip with this amount
I look like a lick, act like I’m rich
Talk like a whip, walk like a brick
Fly like a blimp, right over the public
If it wasn’t for my neighborhood then I wouldn’t be nothing
If it wasn’t for my neighborhood then I wouldn’t be nothing
If it wasn’t for my neighborhood then I wouldn’t be nothing
If it wasn’t for my neighborhood then I wouldn’t be nothing
Crunching numbers with heads
7 figures in Buckhead