[Intro: Quilly]
Stop sayin' it's hard out here
It ain't hard, n***a, you makin' it hard
Ha, yeaaah

[Verse 1: Quilly]
15 years old, I was out there on my own
Stopped goin' to school, I was out there sellin' stones
Out there wit the chrome, out there wit the heat
In and out jail, no, my mom couldn't sleep
She had an addiction, I had an addiction
Gettin' fast money, wasn't tryna hear eviction
Why you in the kitchen? why my money missing?
If I make a million, wonder would it all be different
Cuts some of my friends off, triggered my suspicion
You sayin' you real but that paper say you snitchin'
Fresh Michael Jordans and my ladders' Scottie Pippen
I swear they're talkin' bout me cuz my eye keep twitchin'
But, I'm on the Percs and I can't stop itchin'
Bitch, my phone pop, and it won't stop clickin'
Won't stop trappin', won't stop rappin'
You can get em a lawyer, bet he won't stop rattin'
Big (?) I'm just waitin' on the action
Got me on scheme, and trees; Michael Jackson
You was showin' love, now you're hatin', what happened?
I'm guessin' it's love & war; Tamar Braxton
An ounce 13, 200 for an 8-Ball
And you keep talkin', you got bricks like the Great Wall
Lean 40 dollars an ounce, we knockin' grapes off
And my bitch bad as New-New wit her skates off
I can feel money, know it's right; Ray Charles
I just thank Allah I ain't stuck behind them State walls
Cash in my pocket, credit A1; steak sauce
Out her pitchin' white, never dreamed of playin' baseball
Bitch, I'm on my shit, same bitch I wanted to hit
Funny how the tables turn, crazy now she on my dick
I ain't respondin' to her text messages; call missed
I ain't where I wanna be, but I'm definitely in the mix
Tell life, write a check, tell Tone, write a script
I ain't smoke in 6 months but, I still feel high as shit
I tell em pocket full of citizens, stonewashed citizens
Cake, cake, cake; entenmanns
More money, more money, boosting my adrenaline
FN calm your gangsta right down, Ritalin
Fresh pair of wheats, 200 for my Timbalands
Hit it wit the water then I double up, Gremlins
Buy Noah 2 wheels, he won't need a bus pass
Private school him 8 years, he won't even cut class
Know the millions coming I can smell it on my mustache
The world is a bitch, when I fuck her, I'ma cum fast
[Talking: Chic Raw]
Quilly, what up lil bro? (What up n***a!)
CR! Young legends in this motherfucka
Huh!?

[Verse 2: Chic Raw]
Yeah, the difference is we ain't seein' through the same eyes
I'm like Carlito if he would of caught that train ride
Since age 5, elementary school yard hoopin'
Arcade, we street fightin', throwin' hadoukens
The mall stupid, buyin (?) wit the pencil pocket
Money thoughts, you know I kept em in my mental wallet
Don't mention college, barely made it through the 12th grade
Far as my vision, (?) what
I self-aid if ever wounded in that battlefield
That defense, that sour loud like Seattle field
You know the Seahawks, shallow water the deep parts
Consider me that textbook n***a that got the street smarts
Cheap talk, you better step up your game
White Rarri, red stripes like a peppermint cane
Black tears from a Raven, I feel death in my vein
So, I be leaving like Ray when he exit a game
H hittin' thats from Baltimore, sellin' brown like the Coffee store
Bag the dope, put it in rice on that apartment floor
I offer more and you're a regular n***a
So these bitches choosin' me and that's evident n***a
Evidents n***a, I'm guilty, I be fuckin' these hoes
Talkin' only for the night, don't stay in touch wit them tho
Touchin her toes, she spread it while I'm deep in them yams
Put the paper over pussy so I skeet when I can
3 grams, backwoods, n***a, now I'm fried
1 hand, 40 blam, flip you down upside
I arise, these n***as' got cement in their shoes
In the same sentence wit my name
You shouldn't mention wit dudes