I’m on that tagger shit, rock a backpack with mad cans in it
Rust those my 45 and the tip is the magnums clip
Paintin’ shit, see a pig and I’m jammin’ it
Forget to close the glass up in Walmart
I’m rackin’ it, jackin’ it, mad cans in my jacket, kid
I don’t smoke ‘cause them paint fumes get you higher than Cannabis
Young, tough, ruthless
9-8-7 dropping more bombs than 9/11
Somebody call the reverend
This may get tragic ‘cause I’m taggin’ more shit than a Facebook addict
Fuck the government and how they look at it
‘Cause I did more time than a straight crooked damit
Los padrinos to east la [?]
[?]
Stay rockin’ paint stains on my pants
Never knew I can gain fame with a glance of other people’s eyes
Now my names in the trends
And girls love the way I rock my name on they ass
Been doing graf every day for the past couple years
Double dare you to take a chance, yo and run up across the five interstate
I did but didn’t end up missing my dinner plate
Mom worries about me, homie
Mom worries about me (Mom worries)
Mom worries about me, homie
Check me out
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
