Lyrics : Intro

That’s it Mrs. Johnson
You’re doing good relax
Push. There you go push
Mrs. Johnson: Oh shit
Doctor: There you go Mrs. Johnson, relax
Mrs. Johnson: Goddamn. That little motherfucker looks just like his daddy

West side of the map
East side of the beach
Grew up on ‘Pac and DBG
Raised on noodles and EBT
Food stamps can’t buy shoes so I got it in the streets
Like I’m ‘possed to
Young mosta
But you don’t want it from the shoulders
I’ll fuck you over
And slide on you in that Nova
And slump you over
Shells in the 50 cal size of canned sodas
Know I’m bad for early deaf in hearing way I’m living
Scheming on the millions
Duck tape a nigga and his children if he the nigga with it
On the mission out to get it
One rule is by any means
X I prescribe for the low
The hood Dr. King
Bad bitches flock to me
Because they see this guap on heat
Said she likes the way I’m dressing
So she swallow poppy seeds
Niggas see the way I’m grilling know I got the Glock on me
Try a robbery, this shit gonna turn to homicide
Street commodity
50k is up in my Cuban Links
These niggas slept on me
Dickriding, they need a NuvaRing
My niggas stay with me, it’s a problem my niggas shooting things
Don’t even play with me, if it ain't about money keep it moving G
Grams in the APCs
I’m serving fucking J-O-B
Young nigga been paper chasing since before I learned my A-B-C’s
Crip niggas stay free
Fuck two bad hoes a week
Even if you got lynched you niggas can’t hang with me