[Intro]
CashMoneyAp

[Verse]
Young n***a straight out the trenches, could tell I been through it all (Yeah)
I knew my life changed, I seen Chico lay on that floor (Yeah)
The night my brother died, through out messages, took a tour
When I scrolled up, I seen Chic' say "We gon' ball" (Forever)
That's how I came up with it, bitches know what's up with it (Yeah)
N***as never fucked with us, n***as, we don't fuck with 'em
Voice of the trenches, I swear the people gon' feel me (Yeah, I know)
I swear to God it's only right I show the real me (Let's get it)
Fuck bein' humble, time to talk my shit (Yeah)
You know BM 850? I'ma cop that whip
Two man, passenger with me, he 'bout to smoke his zip
And we don't argue over bitches 'cause they all got clips, you feel me?
A buck fifty, you n***as is politickin'
Only time that I'm worried is when a dollar go missin'
I'm the man now, bet you n***as don't understand now
I'm from the 'jects, I know how to break a gram down
Arab in the kitchen, I watched how to cook a brick up
You gotta know yourself and I wasn't ready to sit up
Young n***a, big heart, big world, big sharks
If you lose yourself while you in the trenches, you get dogged
It's the summer, catch a n***a, indictment with eight chains
All them n***as say they tough, but they never put in no pain
Always kept it buck fifty, know the streets fuckin' with me
Real recognize real and none of you fuckin' with me
If n***as want it, they can get it, I'ma put that shit in order
My uncle hatin' on me, I'm really feelin' like Porter
Older n***as talkin' crazy, I'm really fuckin' they daughters
How you feelin', lil' n***a? I'm really feelin' like Porter
Any time, get the dice, I don't chill with rats or mice
Any n***a wanna battle, that n***a better be nice
They all love me, I'm the man, bitches look better on the 'Gram
How you likin' on my shit and then say that you got a man?
You know summertime in Harlem I'm comin' to make your block hot
Crusin' 'round these streets, I'm comin' through in a drop-top
Comin' through the east, I be froze but make the spot hot
I told my little mans he better not kiss on no thot-thot
[Outro]
Yeah, I kept it a buck fifty, n***a
Yeah, I know the streets fuckin' with me, n***a
Yeah, Harlem, what's up? (Let's do it)
I know the streets fuckin' with me, what's up? (Huh)