Just a Verse, Pt. I

Yea been on my job

Ugh

Yea I go hard

Bodying the beat

Leave the song

With a scar

One phone call away

But I can take you Far

Talk all you want

Shows you ain’t up to par

Hating ass niggas

Yea they wanna test me

Punch them in they face

Need ice Wayne Gretzky

Born a lucky lefty

Told shorty no phone calls

Just text me don’t stress me

Specially if I call you sexy

You can stay around yea

Only if you let me

Supa that the nickname

And Oiyo yea

That be the fucking gang

And Boston be the city

That I claim

No your boundaries

Stay your ass in the bike lane

Or get your ass run over trynna

Come into mine meng

Criminal mind frame

Thoughts hard to obtain

Uhh

Running thru the city with my whoes

Marley scent

Yea

And some Marley on my clothes

Use to smoke dime bags

Now we only smoking O’s

Used to call the plug

Now the plug call my phone

Shit changed

different when you switch lanes

Propane ignite

when thrown on to flames

Yea

It’s that stay out past curfew shit

Momma find it hard

When she work the late shift

Told I’m gone and I’ll be back

When it’s alright

We grind hard

In the day

And still grind at night

It’s either just survive

Or do more

Just to be iight

This shit loud and clear

But so out of sight

Pushing on my peddle bike

Debo

Who want to fight

You fucking up my Friday

Im trynna get lit tonight

From the 1st hustling

Clocking a small knot

Sipping on this 40

Listening to BIG and 2pac