[Intro/Bridge]

They’d probably gun me down by the end of this song

Every time I’m in the street I hear

[ScHoolBoy Q]

“Man down

“Fuck you, where you from my nigga”

“Where your grandma stay, huh, my nigga?”

Brace yourself, I’ll take you on a trip down memory lane

This is not a rap on how I’m slingin crack or move cocaine

This is cul de sac and plenty congnac and major pain

Not the drill sergeant, but the stress that weighin on your brain

It was Me, O-Boog[?], and Yaya[?] watchin Lucky ride down Rosecrantz

It got ugly, wavin yo hand out the window. Check yo self

Hope euphoria can slow dance with society

Seen a light-skinned nigga with his brains blown out

Now this is not a tape recorder saying that he did it

But ever since that day, I was lookin at him different

Joey packed the nine

We adapt to crime

With the sliding door

Fuck you shootin for if you ain’t walkin up?

Pickin up the fuckin pump

Suck a dick or die or sucker punch

AK’s

“Aye y’all. Duck.”

That’s what momma said when we was eatin the free lunch

God damn

You killed my cousin back in ’94. Fuck yo truce

You wind up dead on the news

BG’s up to pre-approve

IV’s on top of IV’s

Obviously the coroner between the sheets like the Isleys

Make sure your colors correct

Make sure you’re cornbread, or they’ll be callin your mother collect

All of our taxes except

When we in traffic and tragic happens, that shit ain’t no threat

You movin backwards if you suggest that you sleep wit a Teck

Go buy a chopper and have a doctor on speed dial, I guess

“Man down

“Fuck you.”

“Where your grandma stay, huh, my nigga?”

If Pirus and Crips all got along

They’d probably gun me down by the end of this song

Every time I’m in the street I hear

[ScHoolBoy Q]

Wake yo punk ass up!

Chyea

I’mma teach you some lessons about the street

Chyea

Fresh outta school cause I was a high school grad