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  • Author
  • SA:MP Haldaja

Now I'm thirteen, smokin' blunts, makin' cream

On the drug scene, fuck a football team

Riskin' ruptured spleens by the age of sixteen

Hearin' the coach scream at my lifetime dream, I mean

I wanna blow up, stack my dough up

So school I didn't show up, it fucked my flow up

Mom said that I should grow up and check myself

before I wreck myself, disrespect myself

Put the drugs on the shelf? Nah, couldn't see it

Scarface, King of New York, I wanna be it

Rap was secondary, money was necessary

Until I got incarcerated--kinda scary

C74-Mark 8 set me straight

Not able to move behind the great steel gate

Time to contemplate, damn, where did I fail?

All the money I stacked was all the money for bail

 

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  • Author
  • SA:MP Haldaja

It's a mexican thing that we bring to your city

619 909 homies tell me 'Are you with Me'

Bumping Lake Side with the Brown Bride through these city streets

With phat ass rides and homies coming with that heat

From undearneth, I got that DP with a twist lime in

Throw on an instramental start rhymin

I'm climbing to the level 80 proven toxication

I'm so fucked up Shadow tell what they're facing

 

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  • Author
  • SA:MP Haldaja

From America to Germany — ghetto emergency

City to city that every ghetto will emerge with me

That’s real intense you can feel a sense of urgency

We gotta take the hood back, it’s a burglary

Rappers getting away with murder like purgery

Killing the vibe and they lie for the currency

Me? Personally prefer to put every word in my verse

To a universal point, purpose and perfectly

N.Y. back, to my death

My tech-nique to deep, my speech unique

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  • Author
  • SA:MP Haldaja

:heart:

 

Visualizing the realism of life in actuality

Fuck who's the baddest, a person's status depends on salary

And my mentality is money-orientated

I'm destined to live the dream

For all my peeps who never made it

‘Cause, yeah, we were beginners in the hood as 5 Percenters

But something must've got in us

‘Cause all of us turned to sinners

Now some resting in peace and some are sittin' in San Quentin

Others, such as myself, are trying to carry on tradition

Keeping this Schweppervescent street ghetto essence inside us, ‘cause it provides us with the proper insight to guide us

Even though we know, somehow we all gotta go

But as long as we leaving thievin'

We'll be leavin' with some kind of dough

So, until that day we expire and turn to vapors

Me and my capers will be somewhere stackin' plenty papers

Keeping it real, packing steel, getting high

‘Cause life's a bitch and then you die

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