I don't wanna be a falling star that's sick of Hustling & falling short

For the sport of pushing foreign cars

This for the ones who never got to start Wanted that leading role had the soul

But ain't get the part

I know a smoker who think he Jordan once Hit the rock

Know a hustler say he can't hit his head till He fed the block

I pray my Son never hear them stories bout His pop

Setting up shop knowing his way around a Box & clock

Don't ever dwell on ya past like it's just too Late

Ya birth & death nothin more important Than those dates

It was some nights I made em stretch just To bless the table

It was times me & my brova fought like Cain & Abel

How I finally get my young **** to listen He gone & I miss em

Bustin bows in the kitchen breaking bad in The trenches

Over west we do it different

Ay Lul J over west we did it different ****!

Pitch black I still stare at my granny Contact

Ain't came to terms wit it still waiting for Her to call back love me while I'm here it's Something about that soundtrack

Lacked the love from My father

So in my son I done found that

I done grew a bit regretful of shit I did Served em all they could handled

So they was never touching they ribs rap How you trap either get rich or get a bid Through the skin of my teeth how Tebow Still beat the blitz…nah fr…