[Verse 1: Fam-Lay] Hmmm...yes sirrrrrr Rock and roll, man roll and rock I got tens, got twentys, got fifty blocks I got smoke to buy, coke for sale Sold much coke, got coke in jail In the white Rolls Royce with my man Pharrell This lil' nigga got beats too fresh to be stale But I'ma take you back to the early eighties When my cousin Stacey had the pearl Mercedes My aunt cousin Wack had the black on black Ac' coupe Legend with the gold in the back I was just a lil' young'n runnin' wild as hell Runnin' round wild trynta get that mail Lil' shorty dudes trynta learn the grooves I was twelve years old brought it to the school Cause I was quick to flip, quick to sell that shit You ain't from the hood, y'all don't know bout this
[Hook 1] But if you feel me, throw your bows up (Star Track) Try to set up shop get glowed up Hey, I'm the candyman, I got mo' than frozen cups I got your chop top sour diesel roll-ups Fam! we can roll up (Star Track) But Fam! don't try to roll up (Star Track) Don't make me pull these motherfuckin' fo's up Cause it's like that
[Verse 2: Fam-Lay] The fiends is dyin', things is lyin' Missin' on the streets, so the fiends is still buyin' Right on time and money on the mind and On them twenty-fo's, them bit-ches straight shinin' But y'all niggaz don't know bout this Fresh new kicks with the new outfit Got the all black top with the black on black You ever see me creepin, just back on back Cause I got that pump and it is gon' spit I ain't no punk and I ain't no snitch From a place on Earth called Huntersville Where people out there got love for real Got love for all who got love for me If a coward ever ran then it wasn't me I'll be on the curb movin' dubs and d's And if you ever bought a dub then it was for me I ever get caught then it was to be I'ma just make bail by my cousin E Back on the Porsche with the mobile phone Like eleven in the mornin' them hoes to go home Trynta score and get this shit off quick You ain't from the hood, y'all don't know bout this
[Hook 1]
[Hook 2] Aww shit, this is the part when the fight just start When the fists get to swingin' and the four-fifths spark And then the bitches get to runnin' and the bitch just scream And we spin off in Rolls and it's so damn clean
[Verse 3: Fam-Lay] I stand on my block, the cam on the spot My hands in my pocket, both hammers is cocked Waitin' for a nigga to just act up My right hand big six, got my bait back up Niggaz lookin' all jealous, lookin' mad as hell Actin' like lil' girls, like tattle-tales Mad cause my right hand bad as hell I would've kept shootin', but I had a sale See, I'm a crime boss three sixty-five Lookin' for a Nina Ross, she just can ride Picked up my cash and slide all sweet Nigga tried to snatch ass, knocked his heart off beat Nigga talk trash like the shit all sweet Wont'cha all take the cash dogg, not off me Hustlin's in my veins - you cannot stop it Walkin' on the block with life in my pocket I'm trynta score and get this shit off quick You ain't from the ghetto, y'all don't know bout this