JUST WON (Verse I) I remember back in the day when I was young Little kid on the block that was my hood spot Corner liquor store a few n***as got shot Up to no good trying to elude the cops damn I should told my pops Now I Some of yall haten n***as make me wanna to laugh I swear in every hood it was a candy lady store Living in the ghetto you gotta lock ya front door Don I get high like them shoes hanging from the power lines People scared to come out side so they look through they blinds Mess with one in my click you gotta mess with us all I don I And yall cats can pull burners if ya want to Cuz my click can pull burners just as quick as your Or we can throw blow for blow like real men I aint trying to merk now I want some children This is for my peeps on the block hustling Why does the rich keep getting richer and the poor getting poor Chorus Every day we on the blocks, and we steadily running from the cops Watching all of my hommies getting shot And we keep praying and we praying but the sh%$ won Every day we on the watch, cuz jealous n***as always want we got We pushing whips chrome rims drop tops We on the rise yes we the Chop Docs
(Verse II) At a young age I seen men selling crack Jamacian I seen it all, my vision is twenty-twenty I seen twenty a germ turn to bundles of money Walked the dark streets where the thugs park the jeeps And spark the heat but the narcs hardly sleep See my M.O. was to get the do and blow bust off the 4 fa sho leave I Tipsy off the patrune tequila and plus the Remi Holdin the semi and that I let the heat rise shoot I see better days when my gat don I And we on the blocks with the glock to ya knot We keep praying and we praying but this $h%# won Chorus (Verse III) It I don He use to tell me that the truth lies within the soul And the potential that I have would shine bright as gold I know we in the last days cuz I seen thugs cry Judge locked Don I get you high like you been smoken cleanse you up like terpentine In my mind I Gat in da tuck laser guided infared to ya head I zone like the stratosphere collapse from an earthquake After my times up archeologist digging my rhymes up I In my hood you need a knife and a mashedy From time to time I think about the sh** that I seen Reality often seems like a bad dream Chorus