Flute - Buckshot, P-Money, Joey Bada$$

You know, story of the hood

And, it gets a little rough

But, I can’t fail

I gotta keep on going

Keep on going little homie

I know it’s fucked up, trust me

Run DMC and shell top Adidas

Both on fire, I couldn’t afford neither

On Easter, my three piece suit

That I wore 24, sitting (?)

Well, Mom’s had a hell of a way

And Pop’s up in Heaven today

My combination

Made me sell conversation

I couldn’t sell crack, no time for wastin'

Break dancin' was hot and I was a dancer

Squish to the beatbox and now I’m the man cause

When the chicks here brrrr, stick 'em

They think that I’m on and wanna get with 'em

Even when I was young, I peep rhythm

That they weren’t worth most of the shit we give 'em

Yea, life like heads or tails

Ain’t fair when we take off our land as well (?)

You had to have props to be able to grab the microphone

Not anybody could have did that

It’s the big dreamer

Heavy spliff steamer

Joey high rolling the riff raff

The flow is wrong in-tact

In-fact it’s overflowing overseas

Don’t believe me?

Get your buoyancy

Get your boy in sync

The flow got buoyancy, them Pro-Era boys in sync

Rap’s drinking a poison ink, across the loud noise (?)

I face L’s but i’m the best out in the rink

Just to think, these rappers like fighters

The Mike Tyson I acquire is not retired

Nor tired

To attract ends is required

And I don’t punchlines — I punch liars

He’s the element of fire, old man

Been running this shit before I was a grown man

But I owe part of it, word to my home man

I’mma see you again when I get back to the homeland

Cleaning up my act, not another episode of them soaps

Doing it for show, Scrubs, watch them getting old

Covered in such, drive-by the sun with a low (?)

Third album Wheel of Fortune when I bought those O’s

And every other letter when I chose

To finish my sentence when I wrote

Nothing but bars as these boxes get filled

I’m Plaxi with the cops, (?) real

As the Nazis got killed

Paradoxes surreal, the apostles reveal

Tryna stay up out the (?) so we all know the drill

They might offer you deals on the real

A sequel for suspects that won’t talk and won’t squeal

That’s the code we live by so the rules still apply

And the truth I abide, I choose not the lie

Need a new alibi, after a while they won’t have use in the trap

I’m sick like I flew in the Nile, while you dudes in denial

You are article and my crew be the now

Yea, that’s newly announced, yea my crew be renowned

You the student, run out when it’s truancy around

Fly!

Beast Coast!

No Joke!

Tell 'em how we get down man

Pro-Era the Bucktown man