Letras
Aye
Bout to embody the spirit of Baby Yac
Taking a fade in the back of the apartment
You lose my **** you run it back
Bet not come down this street
Throwing gang signs
gang signs
Cause we on neck strip like hang time
Summer is here
Murder is out
Let's see what **** about
I love my Louisiana but tuh
yeah sending a bitch in fasho
Can't afford to get my noodle knocked
It's a **** thirteen years old
with a Glock tryna milly-rock
Blower on me I'ma bounce out
Ima slide just for my acceptance
Chopstick make a hit record
But the nine sound like a reference
I am not a gang member
I was only trying to hoop and go to school
Still got a box cutter
Pussy really think I came here to lose
But by the time middle school
(Where you **** from though)
I ain't from nowhere but I'm with the bullshit to the roof
And I never broke to the peer pressure
**** play with me I get you peer pressured
Yeah **** came to jump me
But in retrospect nowhere near pressure
I got a forty on me like I'm beer tasting
Not a killer but you live and learn
Lil **** now I got to teach lessons
Lil **** keep weapons
Momma know I want to be a loc
Homies know I want to be a loc
What the fuck you **** do it for
Fell in love with the gun-smoke
(Where you **** from though)
Written By: Wendell James Hayden, Reginald Darnell Rainey III