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