Dope is like a two-way street:
The addiction, both you and me, now take a seat.
Every car got a fleet, every broad get a Jeep,
Every sparkle in the club that wasn’t ours, we compete.
Poor minds, poor decision makers;
No reward…then what’s the risk you taking?
Reporting live from the project benches:
Hella caine, dope in cellophane, dirty syringes,
Heron zombies street-walking on three-week binges.
Clientele look like the Thriller vid in 3D lenses.
Only thing we have in common: niggas bleed,
In ya thousand dollar joggers as you rhyme about ya dollars.
Is there shame when a platinum rapper’s mother lives in squalor?
I’m on a crash course where talent meets timing.
Christopher Wallace, Think Big, keep climbin’,
Reasonable Doubt, drug era, keep climbin’,
I’m my brother’s keeper, Lord Willin’, keep Grindin’.