| Came a long way to a mansion crib |
| I had roaches out my granny crib |
| Jumped into the streets on accident |
| Police snatched me up they better not ask me shit |
| I don’t want no Quali I want some Actavis |
| I bet that nigga won’t lack again |
| Remember I had them 2s for 10s |
| Put me on child support you better not ask for shit |
| On my dead body |
| I remember wakin' up and seeing a dead body |
| And I can’t go back on my word that’s on my dead body |
| Don’t come to my funeral crying ova my dead body |
| And I ain’t gon' pick you out I’m talking 'bout everybody |
| I remember selling weed inside some Ed Hardy’s |
| My homie he the police he might be fed probably |
| That’s on my dead body |
| You ain’t never been in a shootout with yo' homie he ain’t shoot back |
| Niggas don’t try me when I’m by myself 'cause I’m too strapped |
| Always tryin' to fix some shit where its loose at |
| Couldn’t get none to eat where I’m at I sold loose squares |
| Tryin' tell my judge my story like who cares |
| Can’t explain the love I got in for Dahmir (for my son) |
| Don’t come outside when it’s war I think you scared |
| Wasn’t in my life I tell my kids you dead |
| Know some niggas that’ll snake their homies for some meds |
| Know some niggas that don’t take care of their homies in the feds |
| Know some niggas that took some gunshots to the head |
| No reaction and scream «gang gang» when I’m dead |
| Please be greater, don’t please these haters |
| When that Bentley paddle, like please these gators |
| I don’t cry at wakings, I’ma grieve later |
| You don’t believe me now, you gon' believe me later |
| You ain’t bleeding now, you gon' bleed later |
| We don’t buy 5s 7s, nigga we take 'em |
| Percocet eater, I told Rex take 'em |
| Ain’t let money change him |
| I told Rex thank you |
| Came a long way to a mansion crib |
| I had roaches out my granny crib |
| Jumped into the streets on accident |
| Police snatched me up they better not ask me shit |
| I don’t want no Quali I want some Actavis |
| I bet that nigga won’t lack again |
| Remember I had them 2s for 10s |
| Put me on child support you better not ask for shit |
| On my dead body |
| I remember wakin' up and seeing a dead body |
| And I can’t go back on my word that’s on my dead body |
| Don’t come to my funeral crying ova my dead body |
| And I ain’t gon' pick you out I’m talking 'bout everybody |
| I remember selling weed inside some Ed Hardy’s |
| My homie he the police he might be fed probably |
| That’s on my dead body |
| I’ma attached to my babies |
| They be drivin' me crazy |
| My three sons crazy |
| Make my daughters ladies |
| Turn these thous to millions |
| Goin broke prevent it |
| I be on my enemies |
| 101 percentage |
| Don’t fuck wit no sucker niggas |
| My life I adjusted wit it |
| I snake you just to get it |
| Don’t wanna die, keep my distance |
| Wonder why I keep my pistol |
| Had fame since we was little |
| Kept guns from being bullied |
| Cap guns to keep 'em fully |
| My teacher tried to push me |
| I need them birds like Whoopi |
| My bitch I love her pussy |
| For thirty thousand book me |
| They steady tryna book me |
| Smoke a pound of cookie |
| A designer junkie |
| I done survived the jungle |
| I’ma survive the struggle |
| Forever gon' ride wit muscle |
| Luffy |
| These niggas ain’t real, act like they love me |
| Homicide, homicide if a nigga touch me |
| Facts, oh-oh-oh |
| A shame on you mean that’s a shame on me |
| Got fame on you mean that’s fame for me |
| If you get 100 years, that’s the same for me |
| I’ll forgive you for what you did just explain to me |
| Came a long way to a mansion crib |
| I had roaches out my granny crib |
| Jumped into the streets on accident |
| Police snatched me up they better not ask me shit |
| I don’t want no Quali I want some Actavis |
| I bet that nigga won’t lack again |
| Remember I had them 2s for 10s |
| Put me on child support you better not ask for shit |
| On my dead body |
| I remember wakin' up and seeing a dead body |
| And I can’t go back on my word that’s on my dead body |
| Don’t come to my funeral crying ova my dead body |
| And I ain’t gon' pick you out I’m talking 'bout everybody |
| I remember selling weed inside some Ed Hardy’s |
| My homie he the police he might be fed probably |
| That’s on my dead body |