Though surrounded by an entourage, i feel like i'm alone
With no food in your tummy and nobody to lend you a loan
I'm walkin' to the food trays to get some fried chicken,
And stay focused on the women and you get less done
I open up and i forgot i left a head in the fridge
Pessimistic we are, carry odds like luggage
Tell them to keep it running, i’m keeping the grass cut
To livin in a house with food my stomach
To pay for the food in his garden its almost time for harvest its a combination of toxins
But i'm from jers' and we don't play that shitfrom the clare down to north bricks, all my niggas flipping chips
Grillin shit out of the fridge and we don't know how old,
But i did have miss medusa, she loud and she leave me stoned
I always keep a gallon in the fridge at my apartment
Never let another rap nigga hit it from back or the front
You can ask los, i was like a young gale
Wit a fuck you tattoo no food and a face so pale
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