[Verse 1: Crooked I]
I'm broker than a bitch and I'm sick and tired
I'm feelin' like I'm walkin' in fire
I'm feeling like I'm Jo Jo Dancer
Before I expire, can I get rich prior?
In Longbeach them bullets whizz by ya
Clapper ain't a rapper still it spit fire
It ain't no jobs; nobody gets hired
So to escape it junkies get higher
Six in the morning hustling on the corner
Tryna get out that abyss, I was born in
Switch me with Foreman, 'Rumble In the Jungle'
Piss me, you're gonna get mixed with no warning
Piss poor, got my school clothes, from the thrift store
Just a ghetto boy, like the fifth ward
So I dropped out thinkin' this war, n***a get yours
Cash over bitches true religion
You see what's going on through the kitchen
We steppin' on crack
Same drug broke ya mother's back like the superstition
Me and the boys is, sellin' poison
Like we three members of New Edition
You said we'll die or get threw in prison
If I make a song about it who would listen...

[Hook: Eddie Fontaine]
I'm walkin' down the street, n***a broke as fuck
Lookin' for a deuce, tryna patch up
But the change is loose so every cent counts, no doubt
I was walkin' down the street
With my n***a 'Skinny Kenny' on my side, bitches passing by
N***as won’t let a n***a ride so he stuck, that’s why
I'm walkin' down the street, tryin' to catch the bus
Just to catch the train, headed to Lyon
Tryna do my thing, cause I just can't stop, I can't stop
And it's real, as real it gets
I struggled for years, just to breathe in this bitch
So I'll never forget...
[Verse 2: Crooked I]
Some of us die, some got threw in prison
I wanna ride, for a new position
I wanna make a album about my life
But in this music bid'ness tell me who would listen
What you wanna hear: truth or fiction?
Petty n***as talkin' about they movin' shipments
Like UPS, but, you BS so your birds
Wouldn't know what to do with pigeons
Keep, it one hundred every time I rock a beat
And I done it deep, from the heart I sleep
With a gun I dream, about peace
But not the one under the pillow motherfucker
Glock-9, rather rock mics
Put a stop sign, on the block life
Slangin' hot lines, over rock pipes
Then I got signed, I'm in the spotlight
CL600 silver Benz, makin' love to my dividends
Gettin' calls, from my relatives I never knew at all
And n***as that never been my friends
N***as that never been my friends ... I didn't change
You n***as changed the way you treat me, just because I'm

[Hook: Eddie Fontaine]
Ridin' down the street, with my top down
Got a bad bitch, sittin' on my side
Rubbin' on my thigh, wonderin' why
I'm so motherfuckin' fly, and I smile, cause she knows
I drop her off and pick up one mo'
Everyday that's how it goes, in every way that's how it goes
I'm ridin' down the street
With my n***a 'Skinny Kenny' on my side
In that black-on-black, 'Lac sittin' on them sixes
Man this money shit, is addictive
And it's real, as real as it get
It's funny how shit flips, so fuck you and that bitch
I'll never forget...
[Outro: Crooked I]
I'll never forget man
How you n***as gon' hate on me, huh?
I'm a top rhymin', Section 8
Spraying Raid on roaches n***a man
You n***as should be inspired by me I came from nothing
Aight? That's real motherfuckin' talk dog
When I lay that GT coupe out on the boulevard n***a
It came from nothing...
N***as supposed to be inspired right now
Nah mean? You should salute a n***a like me