[Wstęp] For all my ville niggas man, All my Carolina niggas man, (lights off and shit) All my real niggas, no matter where you come from
[Wers 1] A dolla and a dream, thats all a nigga got So if its about that c.r.e.a.m., then I'm all up in the spot. I was raised in the F-A- Why a nigga never gave me nothing? Pops left me, I ain't never cry, baby, fuck him, that's life. And trust me I'm living, Look what a nigga made out, The shit that I was given, Look what a nigga came out Momma sewing patches on my holes, Man, our hoes couldn't put this flame out. Straight up, I got my back against the brick wall, I'm from a world where niggas never pop no Cristal, it was pistols. You pass through, you better pray them bullets missed y'all, I thank the Lord He let a nigga make it this far, A lot niggas don't, a lot of moms weep. I gotta carry on, all the weight is on me. You never know when a nigga might try to harm me. Rest In Peace that nigga John Lee, I pour liquor, homie. It's foul, but yo the world keeps spinning, Gotta keep winning, get up off this cheap linen, Nigga Imma eat, even if it means sinning, Niggas want beef, Imma sink my teeth in 'em. Pause, I go harder, I am all about a dollar. You niggas street smart? I'm a motherfucking scholar. So trust me, I ain't stopping 'til my money is long, So much dough, them hoes will think I'm rocking money cologne. Have a model at the crib waiting, "Honey, I'm home." Cooking greens for a nigga, give 'em plenty, a dome. It's funny, we dream about money so much its like we almost got it, Until we reach up in our pockets, its time to face reality, The ville is a trap nigga now, And if you ain't focused you gonna be here for awhile, yeah. My nigga Mike rolling with me, riding shotgun, Type a nigga know about every car, but don't got one. That's hunger, no wonder niggas fucking with the evils, Posted on the corner, selling crack like its legal. But who am I to judge how a nigga get his paper? This money coming soon, dog, I'm tryna get my cake up. I guess I gotta wake up these niggas myself, An E&J sipper, but my shit is top shelf, Young J, the rawest shit you niggas ever heard of. A journalist nigga, call me the Fayetteville Observer.
[Wers 2] You know the routine, man Fayettnam Real niggas can relate, And Ville niggas can relate, man. My niggas know about the struggle, man. What you know about your momma sewing patches on your holes, nigga? I had the light blue jeans with the green patches, haha, oh shit. I was in like first grade man, I swear It was like the Sixes came out, the Jordan Sixes. Them shit was so fly man, I wanted them so bad. Darryl what up man? My nigga Darryl had them shits on in class yo, I wanted that shit soooo bad. I begged my mom for that shit, you know. But she couldn't afford it, yo, she gave me, Got me some Reeboks black tops, ahaha But that was all good tho, cuz uh, The year after that I had, I had some, some no name shits, Some all black shits, haha Them shits had metal, metal shoelace buckles and shit, you know? But you know back then niggas didn't, Niggas ain't even know he was broke man, no worries and shit. But uh, times have changed man, I got bills, My mom is in debt, what you know about that? College loans and shit, nigga Gotta get this money, maTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
