Put the grants in the safe, 'cause we spending the jacksons, the
Obie trice, pour out a lil' liquor nigga
I've seen dreams turn dust, cause he made them
To the voice of the oblivion,
Though uncalled for, they gon drop them
The paper to the pen.
Ride my tides i don't mind my lies that died slow
See i wouldn’t wish success on my worst foe
In the face of the outside.
He got hit up that same night
The trigger or the chair
They're tryin to say that i don't care
Take the exit, the nearest left
Box logo on my muthafuckin' chest
Takin' breaks will leave you broken
The bigger the the fun
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