[Crooked I]
Yo, yo, yo
Don't tell God 'bout your big problems
Tell your problems how big you got it (yeah)
To be honest
I promise to keep my real n***a degree
I give up everything like the Amish (yeah)
Con-artist-ass rappers got me laughin'
Everything you rappin'
Never been clapped in
Never been stabbed in
Never sold drugs on the ave, then
Put a cap on everything you yappin' (yeah)
Hardly a mogul, n***a you far from global
My story could sell out in every Barnes & Noble
You marks are local
You marks are loco
Gassed up, part mobile, park's a no go
I lay you down, havе your older brothers shootin' at me
Yеah, my past was sad, but my future's happy (tell'em!)
Where I'm from the cops is enemies
My life ain't a movie, it's a documentary
The block is feelin' me

[Chorus - K-Young]
This is my story
Growin' up in the hood
Always up to no good
No way out for me
Is anybody out there listening
This is my story
I'm out on my own
Streets is my home
Gotta hold it down by any means
Is anybody out there listening
[Ya Boy]
Look
I made every damn dollar off them weed sacks
If I wasn't making money I couldn't relax
15, 25 in my jeans
No time to chase dreams
Imma work this triple beam
Eye it, chop it, weigh it, bag it
Then watch it disappear off the stoop like magic
I got greedy 'cause I ain't never have shit
So I decided that I would jump into this rap shit
Am I a cocky young n***a 'cause I say that?
I'm the motherfucker that's bringing the Bay back
Maybachs and fat stacks from rap tracks
Fast cars and bad broads, I have that
And fat rap got the SL gun proof
'Cause Ya Boy on top like a sunroof
From every hood to Hollywood they love dude
'Cause I keep it so hood when I come through
Yeah

[Chorus]

[One-2]
Hold you down, uh
Yo I inherited the blood of a guitarist
Destined to be an artist
Father was a musician
Mother more like a goddess
Fighting for survival
Poverty nearly starved us
When my dad departed
And God left my family discarded
I was left to be the man of the house
Now I doubt that I'll ever get to settle down with a spouse (why?)
'Cause I've turned cold from misfortunate situations
With past women
For some reason I didn't last with'em
Had a problem communicating so we
Separated, I'm starting to think that maybe it's me
Who's the one with the problem and the twisted views
I ain't fuckin' with none of you superficial dudes
Living isolated
At times I try to write
And I can't get shit out like I was constipated
Been scarred by my memories
No one really gives a damn
Still soul searching
Trying to find who I really am
[Chorus x2]