Str8 Balla

Ayo

i got an ill rhyme, i kick an ill flow, but who the fk knows or cares

this dog bout loose nickas beware

ima hold you down righteous black in lyrical form

my steez aint a dick ride, yo its far from the norm

bars be hip hop quotables, guns i used to tote a few

n gat down for mines any hour like both coasts men do

light up a blunt or two, anything on rocks

shakin' up like a Martini, no bonds or stocks

no application for work, the music's all i got

n a bonafide certified check, plz dont stop

nickas out punchin the clock, got me on the radar

like i just hit up the Brinks, shit iz fkn bizarre

stank thinkin law oppressors pimpin me on an order

so im stressed needin pussy, gotta find me a 'quarter'

beat it down like a drum trak, long as the chick holla back

stay black n fly off psychotropics, now how's dat

my liver quivers n my heartbeat's quicker

iz this a cold or mad nerve, in my Timbs boots just shiverin'

meanwhile, scams deliver nothin, extortin major

i aint got the paper, hell naw i aint loanin' from neighbors

so many favours from peeps thinkin im skunked

cant punk me, coz im down for Black Jesus snce Nike Dunks

my beats bump in the trunk, sell each track at one dolla

maybe i'll be paid, earnin blue collar, shit, a str8 balla