[Verse 1: Boldy James]
They say its never rains in Southern California
But when you from a state where it's always snowin'
You tend to not believe the things that people tell you
Shit that I done seen please believe they gon' fail you
In your time of dire needs street dreams they gon' sell you
Take you to a place where can't nobody gon' help you
Or run to your rescue
I give respect where it's due
You, you only gonna do what I let you
N***a don't let me catch you
With this Drew Bledsoe
And I look at you
Reaching for a gun you can't get to
Beat you to the stash
It don't matter what he grab when I flash
You can have drum on your pistol
Or a pack of machines stuffed full of SCUD missiles
With extended magazines n***as gon' get they issue
By any means, shit, we more than official
Put you out of your misery
Have a morgue and it

[Hook: Boldy James]
Who do you believe in? (Me or them?)
Cause looks can be deceiving (So think again)
And I done been deceived
So it's a lot of things that don't sit right with me
So be easy (cool my dude)
Who do you believe in? (Me or them?)
Cause looks can be deceiving (When you me)
And by the looks of things this shit ain't what it seems n***a
Just give me a reason
[Verse 2: Vince Staples]
Bullets holes in Momma whip, 7 chrome in my momma couch
Watching the way I'm walking before they run in my momma house
Baby bro with the problems, I promise he'll never talk it out
Grammar school I draw on the lines, was born to chalk them out
5-0's from the G-Unit in the raid van, but I seen through it
Got a deuce 5 in the Skate House, that was 10th grade back in 09'
Got a .45 soon as Nitty died, on the North side banging 65
I don't give passes, back-back and shit-bag I'm shit drastic
Piss-poor so I skip classes, still got on them Jays though
No problem n***a, I pop a n***a to get the shit that he paid for
Brown bandana sitting on my face, I'm a Yannc ho
Got a black bitch from Bompton down to spank hoes
Never hit the court room stand with that Drake flow
Trying to get that Drake dough, living where he started at
Eight ain't got no hammer just blam 'em ain't gotta cock it back
Boy

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Boldy James]
After the first time it's pretty much a piece of cake
So if you ain't 'bout this life you probably can't relate to it
If you were silver spoon fed back in '88
I had to eat with my hands out of paper plates
Made my great escape
Satan's greatest trick was convincing the world that he didn't exist
So meet the man out the myth, the devil in the flesh
Hell block, drugs zone seven six Detroit Michigan
We the new Bangladesh, the source and the fear
I need a new weigh connect (trey six)
To give em to me for the two way
But of course that depends on if you make it back
? have you ever perhaps been in a trap so hot you couldn't relax?
Sweatin' bullets, hunnit shots in a TEC
Gotta crook in my neck and it ain't no lookin' back
[Hook]