Steve G. Lover - 285 lyrics

Yeah, A-town, what's up Young Steve, Stone Mountain Childish, lemme get 'em What up Listen [Verse 1] Young Steve, n***a Stone Mountain, real n***a Play your cards right, man And I'mma have to deal with you n***a, all these bucks lookin' like a clean cut We grew up in the dirty dirty Now I'm 'bouts to clean up Young D-boy, losin' our religion, now it's back When I used to get my braids done with ? It was right on ?, me and my n***a Kel Broke as a joke, but we laugh, cause we livin' well Split a chicken sandwich, it was just a dollar Then we parking lot pimp at the atrium, an hour Then we go and hit the club Three blunts in my pocket Only 16, sneakin' into Club Chocolate Fake IDs, me and my n***a T Then we head home and the clothes smell like nicotine High schooler, but you couldn't tell me sh** We was chillin' at the blue flame, b**hes on our dick What up This real sh**, tell me if you know about it We in ? home, smokin' with the lower housing n***a Dean had the green, he could front a mountain Just a shoebox, n***as didn't have accountants Fast forward, now we chill sippin' co*ktails With a few freaks, man they all come from Rockdale Reminiscin' with my n***as on them block ? Smokin' like Jamaicans, eatin' good ox tail