Curb High - Nick Wiz

Grab a tight fist as my lips spit shit that’ll

Split your wrist, slip your disk, and punch out some hits

Now ask me why I cause a homicide.

Seek a center

Was a baby, my brain’s been on a mental rockslide

It started out in elementary fights.

I was

That type that liked punching out my playmate’s pearly whites

Never was much for gaming.

I Duck, Duck, Goose

With a trey-deuce, and I’ve perfected target-aiming

Never had a chum, my brother was my only one

Me, him, my moms, her bat, and my father’s gun

Rolled up into them rift-downs.

Suckers, just

Get down ‘cause I was a kid known for pointing his

Smith down and letting the Wesson teach telepathy ‘cause, see

For seven hours a day, I heard the story of a profession

White kids, white queens, white scenario

But walking my streets after dark was crazy scary, yo

Pushers push, hookers hook, and every once in a while

You’ll look over your shoulder for a possible crook

Curb ((Curb)) High ((High))

Lowlife live by the sword, (die by the knife)

Curb ((Curb)) High ((High))

Lowlife live by the sword, (die by the knife)