I'm grindin', I can't even get no rest I'm vibin', I ain't even wanna take my meds Everybody like "what the fuck goin' in your head?" I'm from Broward County, but not the same place as X Yeah, I just fucked my ex bitch on that X Say she miss me and she

I may not be as honest as I ought to be now When the walls go up, I said it didn't worry me But it hit me and I cannot hold it in I can just be paranoid, don't quell the desire to love What What was really going on, does it really fucking matter? Baby is all

I'm doing the best I ever did I'm doing the best that I can Now go away! I'm doing the best I ever did (go away) I feel for you, better fuckin' go away I will behave, you better go away I'm doing the best that I can (go away) And I wonder day to day I

La da da da da Fuck these niggas Know and know What's your name? How far is a light year? If I was being honest I'd say long as I could fuck three times a day and not skip a meal I'm good I used to work on my feet for 7 dollars a hour Call my momma like

Fuck these backpackers Runnin' this thang, money insane Busy getting brain like Krang What, what's my name in the woods got these niggas usin' Mapquest Alright it's Childish baby, Mr. Talk About His Dick Again Nerdy ass black kid, whatever man, I'm sick

Four A.M., praying, can I get some rest? Dreams of suicide and a need for death "They changed so much, you know what what I'm saying? How did these two motherfuckers, from New Orleans How did they change, how did they change music?" Yeah, I was the wave, but

Only a crazy little thing I read What What are you smoking I'm just to fuck with your head I'm only joking And I don't believe a thing I've said (Why do I do what what I do?) There is a song You're trembling to its tune At the request of the moon

You come unto me just to question my roots But you could never walk a day in my shoes Fuck this shit, you can find me in the moshpit Been in the game for twelve years, what it do? Take it from the best, everything I do pops Fake ass bitches all around me

I love chrome and paint, lookin' for some motherfuckin' corners to bank West coast what what the fuck you thank? Everybody here off weed and drank (everybody) Before you check my rims When you leave the parking lot, check ya limbs You better check ya friends

Walking down the street, in my All Stars In my, khaki suit, doin what what I do Walking down the street, smoking, chronic In my black locs, lookin, at you Guess who's back on the West coast tracks It's the motherfucking messiah of gangsta rap Still dip in the