Son I'm on a bench high eatin chicken wings and french fries
A crackhead fukk spent his last bucks on six dimes
I'm one gram from big time, a spliff away from overdosin
My heart is broken, my man started smokin again
P, I heard the tunnel open again
I spoke to Flex he said he's gonna let both of us in
Its time to load up the autos and semis
I wish my nikkas bank was in a physical form unlike
I got my uptown nikes thugged out and icy
Mad deep, jumpin out the Cocaine white Jeep
Through was strugglin, so I resume hustlin
Rap game or crack game my crew is still bubblin
Yo, three in the morning and the D's on the corna still
Seems we were born to kill, yo P meet me on the hill
So we can jet through Queens in SUV's
Show these motherfukkers how we rep this thang, ya know?)
in the porn game
my nikka Al
memories like beenie man
