7:46, wake up, hand on my dick Lakers lost by 30 last night, I'm talking sh** Roll up a Backwood, k**er in my spliff Reading GQ magazine while I take a sh** Walk back to my room, wake up this b**h Kickin' her out, dick in her mouth, that Compton sh**, boy I'm on that monster sh**, boy Chopper out the trunk, on some Compton sh**, boy I remember flipping dimes and sh** Putting five to them planes, that La Bamba sh** Dr. Dre ain't got time for this, he wearing Beats I got my ear to the ground, lil' n***a, I'm in these streets like Streetlights and lead pipes, up in the projects We gon' make it out but this sh** is a slow process Lean right, keep heat tight, don't ever digest Hollow tips where your mind rest, you forgot They don't make n***as like me Nah, they don't make n***as like me They don't make n***as like me They don't make n***as like me Wa**up I'm that n***a that sold packs by the bungalows Animal out here, my n***as in the jungles know I'm cold like one below in Green Bay Had the water on the block, to the fiends I was a stingray I had a Z before I seen Jay I had the West, I used to sling yay But sometimes when tables turn like a DJ Had them rocks and them bands like Green Day I used to listen to, Project Pat tote straps and sell crack Used to smoke that Bobby Brown, f** rats and sit back On my forte, was more yay, my enemies got gift-wrapped The two nicks in two days, got new fits and new Js Thankful for my two Ks, my vision clear as Blu-ray k** your a** today, knock the glue off your toupée My guns like "hi", leave that shy sh** to Lupe Then chop the top off the coupe, doomsday They don't make n***as like me Nah, they don't make n***as like me They don't make n***as like me They don't make n***as like me Cook crack n***a