Crack Sandwich

You can tell a **** like me ain't never had shit

R.I.P., I miss my dogs like Mike Vick

Zombies in that midnight fog, them boys sic 'em

Fall victim to a gun brawl started over some bitches

**** trippin', they taking whatever's given

The irony when a **** starvin', gotta grip the biscuit

Jump the fence, empty all the dishes out your kitchen

If you witnessing, then click-click-clickin', and they spill the grits

Feel the kick, fuck a fair catch, kill 'em, who tryna take the hit?

First take, go to first base

Stephen A. Smith Wess' on the hip

Talkin' shit like Skip

Or Shannon Sharpe shootin' off the top of the cliff

And if I got to bring it to you cowards then it's gonna be sick

Put in my ten thousand hours while the clock still ticks, Zone 6

Five fingers with the "Suck my dick"

Me and Izzy was slap-boxin', **** bust my lip

Start fighting, lil' brother on some tough guy shit

But if you ever did me wrong, he on some "What's right?" shit

Bust a left, feel the pressure like the bust pipe drip

Blood red, rum sippin', they ain't cut like this

Mama said, "When you fall down, stand up, get a bandage"

"I ain't got cheeseburger money, make a sandwich"

"Why you being bad? See your Dad, get ya ass whipped"

Seven crackhead bad kids in a caravan

You can tell a **** like me ain't met a **** like me

Metaphysical things seen in dreams, what you believe?

You bleed, I bleed, and draw blood

I'm a fucking artiste, Artest, with the gun

I can give my world peace

Give your world ether

Big dick or grief, I can give your girl either

She could be the, could be the collapse of a kingdom

But kings gotta peep the "C" word, the Caesar

Remind me to keep receipts, y'all shit weak

I ain't worried that that bullshit leaked

See the volumes it speaks to your broke speakers

**** breakin' they back tryna promote some shit that ain't even dope

They ask for my coat when I walk through the door

God flow, I don't walk on the floor

God knows y'all hoes, y'all shows ain't packin' the door

Crack in the floor, I don't even know **** rappin' no more

Okay, runnin' my city, I am my shooter

Mindin' my business, I am not you

Runnin' my city, I am my shooter

Minding my business, I am not you

Runnin' my city, I am my shooter

Minding my business, I am not you

Runnin' my city, I am my shooter

Minding my business, how about you?

Look, uh, I do it for Royal and Rosalyn

Rachel and Carl, Izzy, Precious, Destin

Strong, seven kids, different blessings

Izzy athletic as fuck, All-American star

Hard head, scholarship to this school in New Orleans

On the football shit, but in class, he on the smart shit

Black man using his mind, it's a target on your forehead

Gotta stay on point like a marksman

Make a mark, leave a footprint before marching

Bro graduating, so we heading to the blue state

Fam celebratin', granny cookin' up a few cakes

Yeah, gown on with the cap like a toupee

Handed a diploma, all the room say, "Hooray"

Hooray, today, catch a bouquet

Tonight'll probably be a movie, what's a Blu-Ray?

I got some new Js and a fade

We hit the section with the football team

And a couple other professionals

It sound cool, but really this a confessional

Twenty minutes in and Precious done went to the restroom

Said they got to hittin' with some women and they 'bout to get kicked out

They ain't even tell us what that shit was about

All I really seen from the big VIP couch

Was a **** swing and hit my sister right in the mouth

The bouncer tried to block the door, that way we couldn't get out

But fuck that, the whole team bust that motherfucker down

Now we fighting in the street, it's like ten against twenty-three

I was seventeen, swinging on any and everything

Bing-bing, seen my brother doin' buddy like a boxin' ring

Ros' got a bitch doing the hair weave sling

So beautiful, beatin' ass was like a family thing

Fightin' together made us tighter in spite of how we would argue and scream

And now we brawling right outside of a party in New Orleans

And all the people start police calling

Pack us inside of a patty wagon, we sardines

To Saltine crackers that wanna shackle us in chains

Lo and behold, they held us in the holding cell for six or maybe seven hours

Just to let us go without a stain

But who's to blame when all of us got the same mind frame?

We like a gang, mom and pop would probably be proud and ashamed

Pound for pound, my sister Precious never lost a fade

Got up of the ground and she said she could hear my father saying

"When you fall down, stand up, get a bandage"

"I ain't got cheeseburger money, make a sandwich"

"Why you being bad? See your Dad, get ya ass whipped"

Seven crackhead bad kids in a Caravan