Press Play

(*talking*)

Warning, the men you are about to hear

You shouldn't have access to, the subject matters

Individuals on this c.d., is unleased

Into the public, may cause a nationwide in power

(Fiend)

What up, you just started up a legacy

Survival for the hopeful, chapters full of recipes

Remember this feeling, when a good nigga is mentioned

Close your mouth, if you can't help his conditions

I hustled, till the pain became funny

Muscle any damn thing, just to gain us money

Us money, how could I blame a living soul

The grind called on me, like you could be getting mo'

So I hit the slab, like Cab Shorty and Bino

Seven days, 24 like Harra's Casino

Got a daughter, on the way

Down to this last, little quarter of the yay

Hurry up, you're acting funny all day

But I never had my eggs in one batch

That's like thinking, they just made one gat

In every crew, there's at least one rat

Who, wanna bet a hundred G's on that

(*talking*)

Yeah man, I got the bootleg copy ya heard me

I listen to them niggaz man

My hustle game is just surprise, you heard me

I stopped smoking that dirt, all I smoke is that purple now

Ya heard me, can't get me none of that

(Fiend)

My love life is dust, wake up getting it

Thug what the fuss, sitting here missing it

Every moment without it, moving to an exponent

I just think on the sets, and many threats that want it

Depressed, at distance

I travel like my family, no existence

Until I get that call from my baby, like tonight

And she like I know what you doing, you in the studio right-right

Tell her I love her, jump up off the jack

To the swamps, where I could dump off this crack

I'ma make a lump sum, off of that

I call it parallel parking, it'll make you ok come on back

I might drop me a solo, I might change my name

The cops calling us polo, it's Mike of the game

Knee deep in it, where's the devotion

And remember, jealousy is a wasted emotion

(*talking*)

Yeah man look shit, we all gotta pass you know

I told my niggaz, look I'm engaged to you

But look, I'm married to these fucking streets

That's what I love, these fucking streets

(Corner Boy P)

Straight from the cracks, of Flay Street

When the sound of breaks squeak, will have you hopping gates to the next street

Addicts coming for crack, and they'll pay you on next week

Nigga I want it now, I want the coupe and the Porsche jeep

I'm doper than when niggaz, putting balloons

The scent was too loud, I couldn't hide the drawer in the room

And I'm comfortable, so when I jab I connect

And that dirty money, kept a nigga clean so fresh

(Fiend)

And thanks I'm giving, 'fore the streets started calling O's butterballs

Vick's want a slice, but gotta wait till I cut it dog

My day and night time, gig have a gunning ball

And mostly keep heat, not turning the oven off

Hot pitching cool, some of New Orleans

With hood honorable mentions, and everyone of us balling

My threads real cost, and this a guard got still pause

And when the dial got made, I feel lost

(*talking*)

Warning, the men you are about to hear

You shouldn't have access to, the subject matters

Individuals on this c.d., is unleased

Into the public, may cause a nationwide in power