text: I know how it feels to wake up fucked up
  Pockets broke as hell, another rock to sell
  People look at you like youre the user
  Selling drugs to all the losers mad Buddha abuser
  But they dont know about the stress-filled day
  Baby on the way mad bills to pay
  Thats why you drink Tanqueray
  So you can reminisce and wish
  You wasnt living so devilish s-shit
  I remember I was just like you
  Smoking blunts with my crew
  Flipping over SIXTY-TWOs
  Cause G-E-D wasnt B-I-G, I had to get P-A-I-D
  Thats why my mom hates me
  She was forced to kick me out, no doubt
  Then I figured out Nicks went for twenty down south
  Packed up my tools for my raw power move
  Glock nineteen for casket and flower moves
  Four chumps trying to stop my flow
  And what they dont know will show on the autopsy
  Went to see papi, to cop me a brick
  Asked for some consignment and he wasnt trying to hear it
  Smoking mad Newports cause Im doing court for an assault
  That I caught in Bridgeport, New York
  Catch me if you can like the ginger bread man
  You better have your gat in hand
  Cause man
  A man with a dream with plans to make C.R.E.A.M
  Still struggling, Survival got me buggin
  Life as a shorty shouldnt be so rough
  Still strugglin
  Lay out your maintain
  I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times side
  Staying alive was no jive
  Had secondhands, moms bounced on old man
  So then we moved to Shaolin land
  A young youth, yo rockin the gold tooth, Lo goose
  Only way I begin to G off was drug loot
  And lets start it like this son, rolling with this one
  And that one, pulling out Gats for fun
  But it was just a dream for the teen, who was a fiend
  Started smoking woolies at 16
  And running up in gates, and doing hits for high stakes
  Making my way on fire escapes
  No question I would speed, for cracks and weed
  The combination made my eyes bleed
  No question I would flow off, and try to get the dough all
  Sticking up white boys in ball courts
  My life got no better, same damn Lo sweater
  Times is rough and tough like leather
  Figured out I went the wrong route
  So I got with a sick tight clique and went all out
  Catchin keys from across seas
  Rollin in MPVs, every week we made forty Gs
  Yo brothers respect mine, or anger the TEC-9