A lotta n#gg#s left the street
And when they did, they left shirts sprayed with Rest In Peace
Boxed up
Bow ties, no accessories
Except Henny bottles, and life journeys incomplete
That’s why you gotta move aggressively
12 pressing me like linen shorts, these n#gg#s stressing me
Same n#gg#s used to take sips of Cobra is buying ketamine
Big Daddy died, and had my daddy drinking heavily…
’98 Jay, Volume 2
Had the volume on a hundred, like the Audi Speed
n#gg#s signing them confessions who can hardly read
n#gg#s pointing from the stand, made sure my teeth was clean
In ’98, it was volume 3
I had a crush on Sharice, she sitting next to me
She was older, her head on my shoulder just to sleep?
Jesus walked, why can’t I get a peck on the cheek?
Life’s questions like the Iversons
Had answers I ain’t like, so I ain’t buying them
Number 3’s on my feet, I inspire them
Shorty’s call me big homie, I admire them
You living on your knees, I’m dying on my feet
We come from buckets, now we in some bucket seats
Private dinners, aperitifs, who run these streets?
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