[Intro]
The nine on me like a baca
One shot will turn your noodle into pasta
I'm a Puerto Rican mixed up with a rasta
And only real n***as on my roster (woah!)
It's Heff
10 Deep ENT
Hav waddup
Keif I see you (uh)
[Verse 1: Heff]
They say do it for the gram
I ain't gone do it
Ever since a youngin' a n***a always went through it
Father wasn't there, my mother
Always getting high
Grandmother struggled just to keep a young n***a fly
I took the sh** into my own hands
Started out four grams of that Lohan
God dealt me the cards, I played my own hand
Try me and n***as steal ya window like bro man
Money be the route to all evil so get ya weight up
These n***as b**hes easy to score
Like a layup
n***as throw subs on the gram but don't at me
f** a Grammy n***a I do this for my family
My brother in the jam facing two cause his P.O
Scared to put a n***a in the game like I'm D. Rose
Money bags under my eyes, no time to sleep
I spent that 20k and made the sh** back in a week n***a (I really did that)
The nine on me like a baca
One shot will turn your noodle into pasta
I'm a Puerto Rican mixed up with a rasta
And only real n***as on my roster (woah!)
Put my connect up on his feet
80 bands, I used to move that every week
n***as steal nickles and dimes, that sh** week
BQE, I'm switching lanes, hit Perfections for a freak n***a
When it come to the money, I don't play 'round
I was calling for them birds like A-Town
A n***a try and rob me, he getting laid down
Had the deuce deuce, I upgraded to the trey-pound
I used to f** b**hes in the rental
LES breed, I was raised in the ghetto
Smith P's where I came from, keep it a hunnid
I can teach you b**hes how to ball, Pat Summitt
I play for the green, I'm number 1, Mic Vic
Ray Allen from the line, n***a, I don't miss
I'm putting in work like tommy with no job
Got a ratchet b**h named her Keisha with the nose job
Always had hoes, so, f** is ya telling me
b**hes in and out of the crib, Bill Bellamy
Grams for a dime, had the hood in a frenzy
A hundred sixty an O, n***a, I'm not stingy
I'm shooting 40. Cal, n***a feel like 40 rounds
I am the father, you my son, I feel like Maury now
You hating n***as need some p**y, give ya shorty rounds
Shoot 'em like a buzzer beater, feel like Robert Horry now
I might take a selfie with ya b**h
Way before a check I been rich
40 on me but I ain't Shawn Kemp
And won't miss I'm Reggie Miller with the grip
(40 on me but I ain't Shawn Kemp, and won't miss I'm Reggie Miller with the grip x2)