Every year you pass a death day

Like, the day you gon' die, you gon' pass it every year

And the day it come, it come

Too many rappers be talkin' a lie

Like they really be livin the shit that we on

Gangsta, I started talkin' to mics

And the people tell me they feelin' my songs

Murder scene, back to back, call up my hood

Man, I don't want to die, got to make it back home

Stopped chasing dreams because I'm never sleepin'

If I'm not in the studio, I'm serving bows

When I'm sliding, man, they dying for real, yeah

When I cry, man, they crying for real, yeah

When I'm sliding, man, they dying for real, yeah

I got haters who ain't gon' do shit to me

Drop a bag and them **** is history (Boom)

I'm doing this shit for my people, I hope that my **** don't do me like Vino

I started it, I get to shootin' and reload

They know I'm the boss man, just like I'm D-low

Serving these bands like they motherfuckin' legal

I earned all my stripes like I work at Adidas

Surrounded myself only good type of people

No Cookinwitkya but I need a eater

When I'm sliding, man, they dying for real, yeah

When I cry, man, they crying for real, yeah

When I'm sliding, man, they dying for real, yeah

I got haters who ain't gon' do shit to me

Drop a bag and them **** is history

If I got it, then he got it for real

'Cause when I shot him, then he shot him for real

In the southside, and we slidin' for real

And if I'm vibin', then we vibin' for real

Too many **** that's locked in the system

When they go to jail, man, they call up my phone

I know some **** who got a life sentence

But they still tellin' me that they still coming home

Drive-bys, we killing all of the passengers

We see the bullets go straight through the dome

Talk about gangsta shit, please do it face to face

I dont like talkin' 'bout business on phones

When I get to poppin' on ****

And we get to droppin' them ****, the police be on us

It ain't no stoppin' on ****

'Cause we get to movin on **** like we a controller

Black truck, strapped up, we keep a mac tucked

Pistol on me, not a regular performer

You not a gangsta, you just like your daddy

You just a simp, sons, Homer

Too many rappers be talkin' a lie

Like they really be livin the shit that we on

Gangsta, I started talkin' to mics

And the people tell me they feelin' my songs

Murder scene, back to back, call up my hood

Man, I don't want to die, got to make it back home

Stopped chasing dreams because I'm never sleepin'

If I'm not in the studio, I'm serving bows

When I'm sliding, man, they dying for real, yeah

When I cry, man, they crying for real, yeah

When I'm sliding, man, they dying for real, yeah

I got haters who ain't gon' do shit to me

Drop a bag and them **** is history

If I got it, then he got it for real

'Cause when I shot him, then he shot him for real

In the southside, and we slidin' for real

And if I'm vibin', then we vibin' for real