SB's on the feet, fully f**in' laced
Strolling through the city at my own f**in' pace
Moving with my vibes cause this ain't no f**in' race
Too many living with Will but they have no f**in' Grace
It's a chase for the faces, they wanna see a head
Painted green, thinking it's the only way to get ahead
n***as searching for a meal, but don't know how to get fed
First come get some food for thought, or the hunger to think instead
CT Bred, streets like Marlb Reds
And the people in my town are more crooked than the feds
It's the, rhyme-sayer, line-slayer, par-maker
Ain't graduate from law but I've pa**ed the bar player
Never touch the rock, but I move like a ball player
Keeping in movin', I guess I'm rollin' the ball player
Trying to make the dough
Feeling like a f**in' Legend I guess I'm ready to go