(Verse 1: TUT)
Crackhead sitting on the corner - looking like he might be in need
Wondering if you could give him a little bit of cheese
For another crack rock and a little McDee's
Oh, he gon' get it
Remember sitting in my uncle kitchen, I was 8 though
Whippin up a lil something for the pesos
I was making pyramids out of legos
He was making sure his daughter n them was straight though
Screaming mother f** a cop, carl winslow
Louie colors with the motherf**in tint, ho
Ran the trap like a gahdamn drive through
Slanging crack out the motherf**in window
And a drive through, n***a gotta get bread
By any means my n***a
Mother f** feds, let's get this cheese my n***a
Until we all fed - he started out with 9 n***as now they all dead
And the choir sings
(Hook)
Da da da daaaaa daaaaaa da da da da
(Verse 2: TUT)
Young n***a posted on the corner
Posted with a pocket full of trees
See this sh** cost a dub it ain't got no sticks or seeds
And I can't f** with you if you ain't got the fees
Oh Imma get it
n***a lets get lifted
We can get high tonight
And we gone jack that n***a that was flossin right?
Didn't have no gun it was hard that night
Tried to jack a motherf**er with a army knife
I gotta lay low
Made a trip up to the boro cause the ends low
I'm on the interstate with 10.5
Damn (whoop whoop)
There go Carl Winslow
n***as ask me how im doing
sh** im f**ed up
But I still found a way to get the bucks up
Me and Rob in the place with our cups up
I'm in ya girlfriend still tryna get a nut up
Sheesh
(Hook)
(Verse 3: Michael Da Vinci [TUT])
[Crackhead standing on the corner
Night time staring at the trees]
Feigning for a rock, she was over 6'3
Sharing dirty needles, arm looks so diseased
Lil kids run to the house in the driveway
Tarnished last game of hide and seek
1-2-3 smell the fumes from the weed
That the old heads lit down the street - got a nose for the seeds
High so good swear it's all that she need
Should've past a week ago - shareek sheesh
Can I get a dolla' from a fiend
Up and down the street
Walking looking at the heaps of the smoke from the porch
The last little bit of Mike Da Vinci's verse…
Look s**y to its schmit
Tryna reach the pyramid, slave for the queen
n***as life of queens playing pricks in Corvettes
Fast lining, purple rain hoes make them right
(Hook)