From a small ass little tadpole swimmin in a fallopian tube To a fixture on my soil, a stand up type a dude I was brought up in the crack game dealin and pushin that stuff Arguing with my folkers cause we loved eachother so much Ditchin and dodgin the rollers, grippin the block real tuff Strikin and scootin them Novas and them Chevrolet stepside trucks Me and my brother Dennel, Kevin, Dalon, and Black Little Ray, Billy, and Ivory and them from the Magazine Street camp Posted up like thumbtacks, talking on faulty big backs Motorola, A1 yola, glad bag fulla Tic Tacs In the mean time, in between time, in my spare time writin raps In the front yard, in the driveway, on the concrete shootin craps
You think you know, but you really don't have no idea Listen to discography of E40, real talk for real Moons ago, way before I even had a career I got my nickname on the turf for drinking hecka beer And never letting the older cats up in my hood pump fear Funkin with my own soil, listen here Jealous cause we had all the broads and all the gear Up the ladder I'm tryin to climb, game sharper than a porcupine spine Don't gimme nothing, I'ma work for mine, try and grind, grit and grind Hot ones echo through the ghetto, funkin all the time I thank the Lord for giving me the gift to spit this rhyme
A loaf of bread, a stick of butter and some milk Around the corner from the spot where all the dealers dealt Trials and tribul-i-zations, me and my peopl-i-zations Tryin to get this music off the ground with high ass expectations Took a little time and patience, a little faith in God To make a long story short, look at me now sahob I'm doing it chubby like the checker, chunky like the soup A de- a decade and a half and still in the loop In case you suckers didn't know, I told you once before I ain't rapping too fast, see y'all just listening too slow I paved the way for the independent grind The industry they mimick me, but don't wanna gimme mine
