[Intro]
[?]
Bounce through the hood with a strap, this shit usual
You can't copy what I do, it might confuse you
N***as can't copy w

[Verse 1: Louie Ray]
Bounce through the hood with a strap, this shit usual
You can't copy what I do, it might confuse you
Fall out with me, you gon' need somewhere to move to
Big body like a Double R, how I move through
Grip tight, I can grab and squeeze juice
New car, I can stab and squeeze through
N***as ain't been keeping that shit gangsta, they need to (For real)
All I see is a bunch of wangstas and Ja Rules
I be cracking hoes that be foes and dimes too
I can take a bitch to Black Rock and Prime too
And bitches [?] waitin', I'ma slime too
I can run for years with a strap, I'm [?] too
Ain't nobody try to turn me up, we going live too
Ain't nobody gave me shit, that's on my mind too
I went around looking for the real, only found you (For real)
Looking at myself in the mirror, like you found who?
Me

[Verse 2: YSR Gramz]
I'm looking at myself, I'ma sign you
If you ever do some bullshit to me, I'ma find you
A lotta these n***as sound like me, I should fine you
N***a, you ain't no shooter, you got a jumper like LeBron do
I'm a young sack runner, let me remind you
I'll run over you n***as like [?]
You see that gun on my hip, I paid a band for it
Old school n***as still trapping off an Android
My n***a out here selling cribs, he a landlord
I remember sleeping on the floor, ain't have a headboard
I ain't have nobody on my team, they wasn't paying forward
I can't smoke by myself, I get paranoid
High as hell smoking weed, got some Red Bull
If I ain't got my gun on my hip, I know my friend blowing
I need bands more, what I need a friend for?
This shit ain't happen overnight, I got it out the stand boy
We ain't gon' do shit to your ass, what you ran for?
Now days, they all stand for shit, what you stand for?
Send a hundred shots on your block, I should send more
You ain't did shit to your opps, you should spin more
I'ma talk brazy, til you put me on a billboard
[?] said they fuck with my music, they don't feel your's
[Verse 3: Louie Ray]
[?] at this hoe crib, paying her landlord
You make me lose [?]
Did good at the School of Hard Nox, you know I had [?]
Walked out with my diploma, you ain't have your's
Had my [?] at my crib [?]
[?]
Don't think that I'm just dealing out a zip, you know I had more
He complain 'bout everything, you know his ass poor
You always sitting on your ass, you got bed sores
Setting up the spots [?]
I know somebody else that hit her too, but I'ma brag more
It's really too much money in my pockets, that's what I sag for
Got a hand me down crib, with a shaggy floor
Don't live with your handouts, you have more
He say I cut him off, [?]
[?] tell the news tell that boy I got the bag for him