[Intro]
Man, y'all know what the fuck it was before it even started two times
Ruffwayy on gang
The Real Jumpman, twenty three shit

[Verse 1]
Young n***a, I was born to go and get the cake
Eighteen years old, I was born to make a way, lil' n***a
But there's plenty shit stay on my plate
Every night I gotta grind and see a better day
Ain't nobody perfect but I just wanna be great
Chew a Perc' and sip the lean and then I meditate
Twist the leaf and light the green and now I'm outer space
Ain't no more room in my circle, shit, I'm outta space
Ain't no remorse for a pussy if he tryna play
Famous gon' leave him where he stay, soon as he squeeze the 'K
And that's on foe, you gotta go, bitch, you go meet the grave
Just praying for my dawg, hoping that he beat the case
Look at the blunt when I hit it like this shit might be laced
The way I'm strapped up with them dicks, they say he might be gay
Catalog six with the stick and this bitch can slice your waist
Or use the .44 bulldog when this bitch bite your face (Uh)

[Verse 2]
I'm like, "You must wanna lose your life today"
Load up them pistols with extendos then remove the license plate
Whip down with the cutter, make it studder, you die right away
Cancel any witness, just so I won't have to fight the case
Gamble with your life, don't die tonight, yeah, that's the price you pay
Sippin' on that lean, looking mean, ain't got shit nice to say (Uh, uh)
I said sippin' on that lean, looking mean, ain't got shit nice to say
[Verse 3]
Growin' up in that south, I had to go out and hustle
Shon, my brother, I love him, came from the same struggle
I walk some long miles, me and Famous just tryna bubble
I cry so many nights, I shed some tears, can fill a puddle
My heart turned cold like the freezer, swear the shit made me tougher
Ain't tryna go back to trappin' on the block servin' butter
Yeah, I got people countin' on me, I can't let 'em suffer
It's only right, I grind hard to take care of my mother (Uh)

[Verse 4]
Cutter with a stomach where the bottom at
Got a lot of money and I really know, ain't how to act
Don't cross that line, pussy-bitch, we got a lot of straps
Ain't hitting at your legs, bitch, we focused on where your collar at
Bitch, you gon' need a pamper since your ass been talkin' shit
I'ma turn you into a dancer, Glock burn like a pot of grits
Know I ain't got no handles, but I don't know how to miss
They gon' think I had a camera how I'm shooting at your shit