Crooked I - The Other Side Freestyle lyrics

I was born in a god forbidden ditch; Piss Poor Had a cool jumpshot but I wasn't 6'4" All I used to wish for was a 64 To be someone these mixed who*es wouldn't ignore A snotnose snatching purses and stealing bikes Had knowledge to sell, my moms was a israelite By 15 g**ners tried to end my life By 16 I was shooting pistols in the night If I had to write a autobiography It'd only be one sentence -- I'm a G Dead or in the penitentiary is where I should be But like a rolex time piece I'm clockin' G's Cause they can't get enough of the sinister flow Witness the glow, God rap let the minister know They had to let the lyricist in the do' Getting dough, kinda dough that make a friend of a foe This industry is like an innocent ho, backwards Spitting wack words, n***as will blow Here we go, I'm constructing pyramids in your dome While I'm k**ing this show Cause every line is infinite as an O, oh I guess my life's a b**h huh? Slaughterhouse ain't gone platinum I'm supposed to jump off of a bridge huh I'm supposed to slit open my wrists huh A number one billboard platinum black a** to kiss huh For money nah I can't underachieve So like growing up with gangsters I came up with g's The deck stacked against me, got an ace up my sleeve So winning is not in the cards, winning the game's up to me They coming for my head, don't let the game circumcise ya How can my gra** be greener we use the same fertilizer Everybody's a hoodlum, n***as ain't even m**m And they pa**ing on the pig gang they ain't heard Elijah Shout out to FOI's and the 5'ers I'm living my life behind this mic Ironic trying to make my life liver So I meditate 'til my head is straight Sometime I feel like my damn mind is a landmine that can detonate Surrounded by s**ers let em hate Knowing them f**ers is probably p**y as the dinner plate Ellen ate I'm in a state where everybody stressed out Walking with they chest out what the f** the west 'bout You dad left out, your brother in the pen stretched out, your little sister f**in everybody s**ed out So she got a gang of kids running round a shack as small as a guest house And their's Crooked on that red couch, chucks on the coffee table watching TV, But really the TV screen is watching me think How can I get money and stay out the precinct? Every cop that arrested me can s** a beef link I freestyle so much I don't even need ink Demeanor is so serious they ask me do you at least blink? Before the weight of my body left an imprint on the couch seat cushion I left the house I had to keep pushing