Man I’m Rollin through the city, old school on them big boys,
12 inch woofers in the trunk making big noise,
Got the big toys(toys), don’t make me have to blast,
Let a hundred rounds go, you do a hundred yard dash,
Back up in the hood where the rules don’t shift,
And the gangstas talk trills, sip purp and burn piff
You can call 5-0 and 5-0 might come,
But by the time that they arrive all that dirt had been done.
Now one things for certain, and two things for sure,
Being poor is a disease, you gotta hustle up a cure,
Start with your head homie then use your hands,
If you try it in reverse, you don’t even have a chance.
We worldwide worried with the hunger and the thirst,
From the third world countries to the second and the first,
It sounds like a verse but its more like a plan,
Get your Robin Hood on, put some pressure on the man TELL IT!