[Verse 1] Dear diary, these cowards keep trying me These b**hes keep lying to me My blood keeps denying' me I'm empty inside, I feel so hollow Sometimes instead of f**ing I wish my mama just swallowed That's a f**ed up thing to say, but please don't judge When I love, I love and when I hate I grudge I'm emotionally detached and so withdrawn If we can't get along, we gon' get it on I'm a cool a** n***a, I try not to start sh** I'm trying to survive in an open air drug market Instead of saying' I don't know, I'd rather say I don't care My main influence is water, fire, and air Sun in Cancer, moon in Sagittarius Rising Gemini, my combination is the scariest Raised by a Capricorn Won't stop til' my package gone My name ring loud on whatever block that I'm trappin' on "Sour Diesel" and "Kush" rolled in a joint Blowing on that good, a notebook and ballpoints k**ing brain cells, getting high than a motherf**er Then I'm walking by and not saying "hi" to motherf**ers [Hook] I took notes on a criminal conspiracy Memorize, repeat and now the street hearing me It's not just my fam, it's my whole team I'm feeding The trap star diaries burn after reading [Verse 2] I was a good kid living in a mad city When I was broke doing bad, no one had pity No money for nothing, living with my mama I was a doormat and girlfriends gave me nothing but drama So I followed this older n***a in the game, moving weight But I was wet behind the ears jumped off the porch late But that was "O"-eight, I ain't have my sh** strait Learned a lesson in the game at a high interest rate But now I got goons hunting' down my rivals/ I read Donald Goines like it's the bible Or Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations What's the expected value and the standard deviation Got college credit for de Moivre's Doctrine of Chances Now I'm in the trap, taking penitentiary chances I got headache I can't take aspirin for Glock on the table, my eyes on the door n***as want to rob me, cops want to raid the trap house The street life is a dice game, don't crap out What the probability of hitting a seven or eleven If I died tonight I probably wouldn't go to heaven [Hook] [Verse 3] All it takes is guts and a little know how I'm trying to do numbers, but keep a low profile Catch me in the kitchen weighing up my business plan Cut from the cloth of a Fortune 500 businessman Underworld rise On the cover of don diva and black enterprise Branch out and franchise Supply curve, demand curve, GDP Business Administration, WC3 My tongue get them wet, but the money get them wetter Taurus or Scorpio, the thicker the better The hood been so hot Since that detective got shot And its effecting how the numbers adding up at my spot Can't walk to the Quic-Pac to get some arm and hammer Without overzealous cops trying to put me in the slammer Asking a bunch of question like Diane Sawyer I ain't got nothing to say, b**h talk to my lawyer My faith in god has been replaced with' faith in cash and triggers/ I don't trust no ho's and I ain't scared of no n***a/ I get money, so now I'm the person they hate/ My main business ain't dope its real estate/ [Hook] [x2]