(Come to the block and make the papers)
(Come to the block)
(Come to the block and make the papers)
(Kids hustle on the block)
(Come to the block and make the papers)
(My theme is all about making the green)
(This style of mine is well-defined)
(Kids hustle on the block)

Okay, we got Preemo on them cuts, we got Pinot in them cups
Contraband in quarter panels, four, five kilos by the struts
Put your faith in mortal man and he shall terrorize your trust
Shots of Everclear, if nothing just to sterilize the dutch
Sink an entire empire with my placebo methods
Rebuild an entire empire with my tuxedo measurements
I'm the lyrical audio version of Mona Lisa, recorded to tape though
Mama didn't give birth to me, she just aborted the golden ratio
Look here, y'all should come procreate with a winner
If I should catch a fade with an earthquake I'll make it a tremor
I'm cold enough to go on a date with the eighth of December
When I'm finished make the rest of the winter pay for the dinner, nigga
We collect bones where blood is drawn, and slugs is blown
Nigga, we catch bodies where drugs is thrown, here for the throne
Look, wifey realer than Lauren London on the corner hustling
Like a Detroit party when "Step in the Name of Love" is on

(Come to the block and make the papers)
(Come to the block)
(Come to the block and make the papers)
(Kids hustle on the block)
(Come to the block and make the papers)
(My theme is all about making the green)
(This style of mine is well-defined)
(Kids hustle on the block)

Uh, okay
Kool-aid known by colors, boy, we ain't no flavors
(Ain't no flavors)
We relate to Jesus, most my people born in mangers too
They ain't know their fathers (fathers)
They were born to strangers (strangers)
We were raised by VR Troopers (troopers)
Wishbone and Power Rangers (ay)
Aye, yeah, we confronted the danger (ay)
We never did fear the outcome (naw)
Cap guns turned into revolvers, never leave home without one
(Never leave home)
Invested in quarters, and Marvel vs CAPCOM
See my nigga turn Megaman (Megaman)
Since eleven never seen no coat without a firearm
In his palm, you would think they connected, woah
We was broke on a mission for the chose
Sold integrity for neck when chickenheads would come approach
Bitches swallow dick and sang on Sunday
Oh but this ain't noble
We were suckers though
We tried to make a wife out of them hoes
Stuck in the middle of Bernie and Tom step up in a black Jeep
Lowest totem on the pecking order
All the pretty hoes wanted athletes
Bamboozled by the bamboo-wearing bad bitches with the fat cheeks
That made us wait on the same pussy
That got ran through like a track meet

(Come to the block and make the papers)
(Come to the block)
(Come to the block and make the papers)
(Kids hustle on the block)
(Come to the block and make the papers)
(My theme is all about making the green)
(This style of mine is well-defined)
(Kids hustle on the block)

Young niggas get on they 'Gram
And gotta start talkin' all silly and shit
Talkin' 'bout runnin' my city and shit
All this ol' gun hostility shit, artillery shit
All this ol' menacin', killin' me shit
Reminiscin' about prison, ain't really this shit
But got caught stealin' and shit
Sittin' in a van with killers and shit
Pistol in hand, dumbdumbs in my lap, ventriloquist shit
I Proof, I Blade, and Dilla this shit
I prove I'm great at flippin' this shit
And building this shit, they ain't giving a shit
Damn illegit shit

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Royalty Network, Songtrust Ave, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Christopher Edward Martin, Oswin Benjamin, Ryan Daniel Monroe