[Verse 1]
Let me tell you a story about this guy
Gets the ladies, dresses nice, so you can say he's pretty fly
Let's call him rob, hey!
Cuz that's what he does to the fiends on broadway
He's fairly young
Knows his way w/ people, so i guess he has a native tongue
Looks innocent, but when it comes to beef, he says he'll finish it
I guess he should have thought more when before he got really into it
Living a life like this, your freedom is pretty diminished sh**
This is how he starts his day
Wake up in the morning
With a loud a** yawn and
He's actually unhappy with his life, because he says its boring
He maintains to remain the same thing everyday
His mom gets a share, so she doesn't really complain
She's aware of what's going on, but she's addicted and has her own conflictions
To the d** and the money, now look what he's inflicted…
[Verse 2]
He rides the train everyday
Just waiting for friday so he can get paid
Now its the dirty a** blue line
So on his way there, he sells all the fiends quick dimes
Always about his success and his money
And if you try and stop him, ain't a damn thing funny
He makes fast cash
While waiting for for the dash
You need some wax for some dabs?
You need some meth? you need some crack?
He got something for all that
He stays low-key because's silently selling keys
Pocket full of $500 before he even checks in, to get his checks in
And they come correct
This sh** happens everyday in front of our eyes
Dealing to fiends entering their demise
[Verse 3]
There's hella ways to make ends meet
Start off by planting a couple of seeds
Now he talks alot of sh**, and karma's a b**h
So only time will tell when he gets his a** bit
And he never paid his street tax
Wouldn't you think that if you were slangin, you'd know the street facts?
You call him stupid, i laugh
And after all that, he doesn't even, have his hood pa** intact
Now the money's getting to his head
A couple of street dudes wanna fill his a** with lead
Are you happy with the live that you've led?
Or is it worth it for a little bloodshed?
Thought he rain the street imperialistically, because he got shot on avalon and imperial ya see
He lies there bled to d**h in a fresh pair of ‘breds
And these are the last words he said before his last breath to d**h:
Money is the anthem of success, so before we go out, what's your address?