the live Once upon a time, I
stayed in the small of my back.
Once upon a time, I stayed in
the small of my back. I saw
Stop sign strapped with my yack dank sack and my Glock 9
Kicking it with the homies on the grind for cash
A double R soldier, 3C savage Running from the ones with the nightsticks
High speed chasing and racing in tight shit Back in 85 selling good with the shit
Wasn't a thing that them fiends wouldn't do for a hit
Bitches suck dick, niggas rented their cars Where young players like me became street
stars Glued to the track with a sack and a handgun
Steady sweating steel, stopping cars at random Running from the 50 hitting fences and hyping
out Seven cars deep inside a homie's rock now
House parties popped, stayed packed with hood rats
Niggas on the mic drunk, bussing them hood raps
Hooked on the bank, Thunderbird we drunk Rolling in the bucket with the fucked up paint
24 -7 on the hunt for coochies Porting true nights, be lying Gucci
Making much money on the dope track But when it cracked, slept
The niggas started to jack Every young nigga trying to stay in the mix
Was breaking them tricks and code, hitting them licks
Jacking became the quickest way to make some men
But some niggas failed when spent years in jail Driving iron in a pen trying to make
they check bigger Some niggas died getting jacked by the next
n***a But that's the way it goes, you pay the price
When you deep in the game And you living that life
This is that line, going through it
I was against all odds, fresh out the womb I only hoped to soak game so I consumed
My niggas steeled and parlayed, I learned the hard way
Stuffed and rubbed up the game, then scored right
Back in the days, all I knew was the hood and rocks
Looking for funk and had a straight forward vox
Throwing the quick cash and getting the grit fast
Never really tripping on no longer shit last
Earning my yellow stripes and scraps in ghetto fights
Fucking with hood rats and traps and ghetto types
Never giving a fuck, nah, not even sometimes Just having a fun time, running from one time
Tripping and wasn't even peeping the shit Slipping instead of getting deep in the shit
I let the game control me, shape and mold me
Then it treated me coldly, it pimped and holed me
Y 'all was selling the crap but not stacking the damn thing
And now that I look back, man, it's a damn shame
Couldn't recognize there was game to pick The dank had me gone and my brain had slipped
I finally woke up in the federal pen Broke then a motherfucker begging for ends
I was a midget, a small digit, forgotten Game was still, my name was rocked
Had life by the ass, my shit was twisted I thought about the hood and how much I
missed it But the life I was living wasn't really shit
I was clocking the men but wasn't stacking the grip
They had the world thinking I was running in vaults
I reassessed my thoughts, improved my faults And for the next four years, I kicked and waited
Becoming top -notch while incarcerated But that's the way it goes
You pay the price when you're deep in the game And you're living that life
