verse 1
Yoyoyoyoaiyyo who sleeping on bleek
Wake his ass up
I m a show em all the money
And the ass I pass up
How I m N-Y deep
Who snitched to NYP (New York Police)
You bitches been dropping D s (dimes)
Since 86 striped Lees
Dial 9-1 tips
When I spit one clip
Supposed to be killing niggaz but ain t really done shit
I m loco
Tote the 4-4
Smoke L s with duck doors
Drow flow
Blow the smoke slow
And holler fuck hoes
It s cash and money
Nines grab the green weed exactly
One shot lives and daiquiris
My gat be stashed in the dash
Mixed herbs and hash
On a cruise for cash
I might bruise some cats
Spit 2 at you dudes that act
Like you can t be touched
Front and lose your cap
I incinerate guns after bodies I caught son
Never on the run stack mail by the tons son

Chorus 2x:
Yo it s that Roc a Fella shit
Hoes clothes to whips
Act up and get hit
Give a fuck who you with
We them niggaz coming through
Locking down your strips
Some real niggaz that walk around with guns on their hips

verse 2
I live my life now like none of y all fagots
You keep fronting like that
I m gone let one of y all have it
I keep the fours drawn
When I wake up the war s on
For the breadbutter and chips shit I go to war for em
Tinted my whip now
These cops ride dick now
Money spend now
I move work through my pen pal
Niggaz hate bleek cause I live through this shit
You niggaz keep hating cause I could deal with this shit
I m a street individual
Sold it all criminal
Weed just a minimum
I m a M-P emblem
Rock syndicate and flips in the block
You call it I lick a shot
I m street wise
Went up on my caps in size
Who getting money over here contact these guys
Let em know I set up shop to trey eight the block
With 3 niggaz 1 gun and a buck 50 to shop

Chorus 2x

- Back to the Songs of the Album Coming Of Age

- Back to the Memphis Bleek's Albums