[Verse: Styles P] Gettin' mad high was a lowlife Now I meet the connect, what is this lowlife? When I get on the ride, know what the road like I'm just tryna travel the world see what the globe like If you getting knocked by the police, know what the code like You dont ask for none, but a phone call fu*kin with ni**as that break your bones off They gon' run up in the crib n' cut the phones off It gets scary seeing the infrared Gun sings a song n' you in the bed It was an alibi, you was nullified Im just tryna flow like a bu*terfly Staying out the way run it up or you runnin' line With them dumb ni**as that arе fool when it comes to time But Ima buss it off whеn it come to mine [Chorus: Dyce Payne] They know my body what type and time I'm on, yeah Tryna send a shawty you get shot, dead n' gone, yeah Playing by my back, I like my cash stripping phone, yeah Got a deal which you won't be sitting out on warning Just in black, load that piece This ain't no cap, go to sleep [Verse: Tony Moxberg] Tony! Used to move work off the next town While I receive a hustler, all I did was crack sales I dont care about you (?) 40 at the jeweler, homie this is nut sales Brown bag lifestyle, tryin go legit Man fresh home, back ridin' with the stick Trapped into 3 shooters, first round pick All of them thirsty, they just tryna get a lick Used to had a shawty on side of the back 100k under the mattress I slept on the bread Connect stopped shipping, started driving instead Had my 200 by Friday like Smokey n' Craig Where I'm from you hustlers starve And staying alive is like a fulltime job Before you send me to hell, Ima send you to god Playa reach out from the deck but still playin' my cards [Chorus: Dyce Payne] [Verse: Styles P] Nobody looking to die young But its a few smart ni**as that are looking to die dumb Why you think that I'm high strung In the M, thinking the M's letting the 5 run 6,7 and 8, ni**as pushin' that weight But they rat till police (?) they hit the gate You're just a monkey my ni**a, you're not a ape You're just aight with your rhymes, you're not great You said you G but you checkin' cities n' got a (?) Me when I'm checking the cities I'm getting paid Yeah, I get honour of respect you get the finger Right when we done with the sh*t, you get the blame I dont like the sympathy from you, get the grenade Yeah I'm back on my holiday sh*t, hope its a faze You should get a beat and a mic and get a maze I am like a book my ni**a, its just a page Ghost! [Chorus: Dyce Payne]