Verse 1
Straight out that Inglewood city
Where the skinny n*ggas ride
You ain't really with this life
I can see it in your eyes
Chasing money everyday and everynight, until the casket
Drop on my head, give me bread
That's my last wish
My new girlfriend sh*tting on my last b*tch
Liquor in my cup, probably darker than my past get
Yeah, I heard that life is what you make it
And that she's a b*tch, but homie that my type of lady
See now, dollar after dollar
I need money and the power
And a bad red b*tch steaming in my shower
Yeah, these are the days of our lives
Where it's real against the fraud
Lil homie, now pick a side
I said, dollar after dollar
More money and the power
And a bad red-bone b*tch steamin in my shower
Yeah, these are the days of our lives
Where it's real against the fraud
Lil homie, now pick a side
Hook
I hear everybody talking about us
I could give a f*ck
We been staying over there
But now it's time to live it up
On the road to the riches
I give a damn, a n*gga saved
Hit my knees every night
Thank god a n*gga paid
[Repeat x2]
Verse 2
Look, see we just out here
Repping for what we came from
I be on that money
f*ck you think I got my name from?
Pops who I got the game from
And he will tell you
"Please do not confuse us with them lames, hun"
One, now it's over for that f*ck sh*t
That's my letter to you
And cowards that you f*ck with
Ask around, they'll tell you that we does this
Sox Gang bang, and tell a sucker to duck quick
Yeah, living the lyrics that I speak so
Money on my mind, dollar signs what I think about
Smoke strong, let a couple songs leak out
Flying through the clouds
Type of sh*t these haters dream about
Underrated but I'm never faded
Underground but the radio still sneaking plays
Two b*tches, one me, my situation
Three's company, I'm trying to start a corporation
Hook
Verse 3
Every b*tch I ever touched been a bad one
You probably mad at the fact that you never had one
Ain't a rapper around realer than my dad's son
Empty Rose bottles, where my gang ash blunts
See this is the life as we know it
Losers and broke b*tches, two things that we never notice
I smoke potent, coupe rolling, roof open
Rubber bands on my stacks, they too big to fold it
And before I leave, I bring death to the beat
And let the listeners grieve
They know that, boy, I'm just keeping it G
And need you to do the same when you listen to me
Hook