Letras
Thirty guns, stashhouse had some kilos and a tommygun
Chasing all these demons, but I hated nuns
Preachin like we sinners just for having fun
Tired of these prophets I ain't having none
You can't judge my sins, I ain't praisin God
I came from the trenches, against all the odds
I don't need redemption or a green card
I just need my freedom like La Amistad
I just need my Glock for self-defense
My voice is what they needed to commence
I ain't on the wrong side of the fence
Laws I broke'em
Drugs I sold'em
Just another story like Coppola told
Streets don't give no glory, but pay more than gold
White gold that we hold just came from Bogota
Colazione, cocaína and caviar
I speak different tongues, bet I'm super smart
I make bitchez spin it like a Mario Kart
I been moving wages like a pastor
Gotta trade this Ford for something faster
Gotta be a boss to book my show
Supermodels in my bungalow
Used to work the corner with a Colt
Used to sell Gelato with no mould
Had a shitty hand, I didn't fold
Had some interviews I never told
Half a million hidden in a bar
M4 in the back of my Velar
Laws I broke'em
Drugs I sold'em
Born into this life I didn't choose
Morning starts with substance abuse
Yayo that will lock a nigga jaw
Ice cubes but they ain't from Crenshaw
Opps were tryna kill me I'm still standing strong
Cops were tryna bust me, I did nothing wrong
Nothing was laid out I did it on my own
Started selling Kush, then I was selling stones
Moonrocks were the shit they never saw
Baking soda stirring with the raw
Law-abiding folks buying all my stuff
Ending of the year I never had enough
Thought that I was never gonna stop
Last week had to cut my last crop
I am not confessing for no court
Trappin' cause it's just my kinda sport