One day on a bench in a park was a man,
next thing was a star blown up with a bang,
only person to ever give me a dollar to get me anywhere was my mother,
in case she landed in debt,
I got this,
always was a hustla,
had my custlas,
many of em' I ain't fuckin' ya.
One thing I learned,
was I ain't ever trustin' em',
still to get clack,
get your back out,
whenever I get your back,
with tracks that never gon' flip that rap,
make ratchet,
and I'm like damn,
I don't wanna fuck with em',
even an army was of 300 couldn't hold me back from gettin' my thoughts on paper,
check the hater's,
I have the right,
to write my opinions on that paper,
it ain't my fault,
them bitches,
they them fuckin' players,
build my fuckin' nature,
I'm killin' it,
killin' it.
Peaceful kinda G'ed out,
got my pen n' my hat,
mind blowin,
then comes a crazers,
it's dangerous,
in the room,
refinin',
explainin',
smoke alarms rangin',
blowin' smoke in the middle of it all,
and im just takin' it,
you feel the heat,
I bet,
especially cuz my shit's bakin',
let me get up behind the mic and,
have they're ear drums bangin',
I'll let the music go,
I don't give a fuck turn it all the way up,
and bang it.
I got a sign sayin' if she not a hustla,
best trusted,
one lovin',
so I'm gunnin'
beats runnin'
so turn it up,
the perfect structure.
Turnt,
cuz I ain't no damn stranger to the beat though,
to the beat though,
to the,
to the beat though.
Ain't no damn stranger to the,
to the beat though,
to the beat though
to the,
to the beat though.
Never got fucked with,
a D boy,
e streets.
my mother was a real hustler,
did numbers,
so everyday we had food to eat.
Grandparents,
were the damn gladiators,
so this means that im the next crusader.
My sound from my subwoofer,
is my best explainer,
ask me to turn it down and quit coolin' it,
and them dudes are too old,
and straight haters.
Syllables rip fools,
as the mic fumes,
I'm your savior,
and words cut through you like 8 razors.
Wanted to move me,
you're gonna have to chop off my name first,
and get close to me without settin' a flame to ya shirt.
I'm rollin' clean just one day of the week,
the other six im freakin' me,
just part of Sixes-C,
got my grind,
don't do it for my well being,
but have my grind,
you best believe.
I ain't mention it,
leavin' rude mutha fuckas,
who can over clentity,
cuz even the real ones know that they shouldn't mess with me,
you trip on G's,
while I trip on reem's,
of that green,
paper,
once I gotta check for hater's,
thank then turn it up,
and bang it.
I got a sign sayin' if she not a hustla,
best trusted,
one lovin',
so I'm gunnin'
beats runnin'
so turn it up,
the perfect structure.
Turnt,
cuz I ain't no damn stranger to the beat though,
to the beat though,
to the,
to the beat though.
Ain't no damn stranger to the,
to the beat though,
to the beat though
to the,
to the beat though.
I'm the hottest emcee about to blow,
have you ever seen a star burst?
The only way I'll play this record at my shows,
is if I can get all the beat boys to go.
To the beat though,
to the,
to the beat though.
To the beat though,
to the,
to the beat though.
And if the homies spit this and keep on with they own shits,
in the streets though,
in the,
in the streets though.
I got a sign sayin' if she not a hustla,
best trusted,
one lovin',
so I'm gunnin'
beats runnin'
so turn it up,
the perfect structure.
Turnt,
your welcomed to the beat ya'll,
to the beat ya'll,
to the beat ya'll,
to the,
to the beat ya'll.
Stay cookin',
stay jumpin,
to the beat hard,
to the beat dog,
to the,
to the beat dog.

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