Theres a hole in my pocket
Keeping them on the hip
Little nigga so they picked on him, hassled him
The corn-tops ripe and the old breeze blowin',
See i know when the harsh reality take it's toll
I'm so tired of this i could blow, fire in the hole
Tick tick boom and you got a hole in your ears
The dilemma is, you think i got no conscience
Geechi on her, came back: a million chains
Leave yo brains lookin like some mushy corn flakes
Fabricated cause i waited in a dark hole hopping/
Tryin’ to bag a brother with a super bowl ring
While he lobs corn on the cob up into his fat fuckin' gob
Then i switched the grill on the chevy, got a nose job
So ya better get lower than flo-rida inside of a lowrider with no tires in the hole
I started rap when i was like 12 years old,picked up a paper, pen and started to roll,
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