7:46, wake up, hand on my dick
Lakers lost by 30 last night, I'm talking sh**
Roll up a Backwood, k**er in my spliff
Reading GQ magazine while I take a sh**
Walk back to my room, wake up this b**h
Kickin' her out, dick in her mouth, that Compton sh**, boy
I'm on that monster sh**, boy
Chopper out the trunk, on some Compton sh**, boy
I remember flipping dimes and sh**
Putting five to them planes, that La Bamba sh**
Dr. Dre ain't got time for this, he wearing Beats
I got my ear to the ground, lil' n***a, I'm in these streets like
Streetlights and lead pipes, up in the projects
We gon' make it out but this sh** is a slow process
Lean right, keep heat tight, don't ever digest
Hollow tips where your mind rest, you forgot
They don't make n***as like me
Nah, they don't make n***as like me
They don't make n***as like me
They don't make n***as like me
Wa**up
I'm that n***a that sold packs by the bungalows
Animal out here, my n***as in the jungles know
I'm cold like one below in Green Bay
Had the water on the block, to the fiends I was a stingray
I had a Z before I seen Jay
I had the West, I used to sling yay
But sometimes when tables turn like a DJ
Had them rocks and them bands like Green Day
I used to listen to, Project Pat tote straps and sell crack
Used to smoke that Bobby Brown, f** rats and sit back
On my forte, was more yay, my enemies got gift-wrapped
The two nicks in two days, got new fits and new Js
Thankful for my two Ks, my vision clear as Blu-ray
k** your a** today, knock the glue off your toupée
My guns like "hi", leave that shy sh** to Lupe
Then chop the top off the coupe, doomsday
They don't make n***as like me
Nah, they don't make n***as like me
They don't make n***as like me
They don't make n***as like me
Cook crack n***a