[Verse 1: Blanco]
Yeah, ay
They ask me how I came up, I don't like to talk about it
And askin’ about my past just have us in an awkward silence
Fuck preacher, I'm off to the islands
You could look at the dope game as a plus or a minus
But I do fuck the finest, I do smoke the best
And I smell of kush bud with a just a touch of success
And they just don't know that I’m just that cold
Like I just got a cold, I got a sick ass flow
I'ma get that dough until I'm so so wealthy
Get this on my own, not a single soul helped me
All I see is jealousy, all I hear is hater shit
All I hear is bitches on my dick, yeah, that player shit

[Chorus: Kokane]
See me ballin' outta control, pockets on swole
But it didn't come easy
Ain't nobody gave me shit, I had to hustle hard for it
And that's fa sheezy, they just don't know
(They just don’t know) What a player had to do
They just don’t know (They just don't know)
’Cause you ain't never been in my shoes

[Verse 2: Nipsey Hussle]
Look, fresh up out that bulletproof 745
Tipped a hundred dollars when the valet grabbed my keys, I'm
Runnin' through this money like these hun’eds is Adidas
They hatin' and I see why, we riders and we fly
You n***as is neither, you know the procedure
Hustle 'til we run out, we count cash and re-up
High 'til we die, so it's motherfuck a detox
And only thing we run is Louis belts through our Levi's
We the one, and I see what this become
They wavin' they white flag, I'm still bustin' my gun
No surrender, no retreat, my n***a, I got to eat
And keep thousand-dollar sneakers on my feet, Hussle
[Chorus: Kokane]
See me ballin' outta control, pockets on swole
But it didn't come easy
Ain't nobody gave me shit, I had to hustle hard for it
And that's fa sheezy, they just don't know
(They just don't know) What a player had to do
They just don't know (They just don't know)
'Cause you ain't never been in my shoes

[Verse 3: Nipsey Hussle]
Uh, listen, look
Cops can't touch a n***a, never been a sucker n***a
Fuck a bitch, fuck a n***a, All Money money-getter
All I really care about, is the women in my kitchen
Foldin' clothes, washin' dishes got me through them cold Decembers
Told 'em it'd be better days, so that explains the shit I'm into
I kept my word but details is confidential
Not too many n***as have survived the type of shit I've been through
And even less is this nice on an instrumental
Minus the pencil, just the info
They tell me that it's all a mind so I play this shit mental
They see the platinum plates and they assume that it's a rental
'Cause his album's yet to drop, so how he pull up in a Benzo?
Drop the top, bet the bitch got crop
Let it blow in the wind or I'ma roll 'em stock, yock, yock
The stop'll be the block
Grab a phat sack of weed then we hopped on a yacht
[Chorus: Kokane]
See me ballin' outta control, pockets on swole
But it didn't come easy
Ain't nobody gave me shit, I had to hustle hard for it
And that's fa sheezy, they just don't know
(They just don't know) What a player had to do
They just don't know (They just don't know)
'Cause you ain't never been in my shoes