Jim Jones: what? Yeah that was me
Shit that's my gang
Now we balling on you niggas harlem stand up
Different strokes nigga
Rags to riches on you niggas
What you say sucka?
You know where we from nigga?
We from that Harlem place man
This where all the swag come from

Dope lines, fiends sniffing coke lines
Crack sales, trying to avoid a packed jail
A major hustle
Knowing that the jakes'll cuff you
Life's a bitch
And ain't no way to make her love you
Abandoned buildings
Shoot-ups and the random killings
If you hoop, well you might got a break
I was enticed by the coupes, loving them
All night on the stoop
You see my life is like a race?
Fucked up ain't it? yeah i
Had a big willy dream
Tying to get a mill moving
Krill's to the fiends
In front the building you
Can hear the sireens
Getting warm in the lobby chilly chilly
Nah mean? But i got caught up in my tracks
I got caught up on the trap
Well i'm back motherfucker in
Something sporty and black
I did two shows and i
Bought it off racks cocksucker

This for my little niggas
That ride for the ends
To my niggas that getting
Money driving a benz
I was live on the streets, i'd die for my men
If get started from the
Beginning i'm riding again
I be always in the hood
Sending bitches to heaven
If you come to Harlem you can find me on
I don't just play on the airs i live on the
Kill a nigga over my money but never a bitch
I double back, see
We double plaq, chinchilla in the jeep
It's Byrdgang, Biggaveli baby we the street's
You a little indian boy, baby we the chiefs
My momma gave me the grief
Had her getting high
Welfare first of the month barely getting by
Pot of milk, sugar & water rarely getting by

Copyright: MUSIC SALES CORPORATION, Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): DENNY RANDELL, JOSEPH JONES, PETER O PHILLIPS, SANDY LINZER