[Verse 1: RXKNephew]
I thought about selling crack in the third grade
In the fifth grade, in the sixth grade
Kept on selling crack when I reached seventh grade
Aunty smoke crack, mad that I found out
Big Neph keep the bags 'round the house
Grandma found out that I'm selling crack, she ain't even mad at me
I can buy my own shit, I hope she mad happy
Real life crackheads gone wild
Aunty thinking I'm her real nephew, tryna curse me out
Beat the fuck out aunty, knock her old ass out
Unc don't pay, me and him gonn' have beef
Twеlve twelve fifty-еights, ain't no weed on this street
You can get a deal on bundles, nah, you ain't getting a sleeve
Somebody stomach growling and I don't know if its them or me
You gonn' have to damn near beat unc ass for him to leave
Unc nice with his hands, he thinking he Ali
Aunty got butt naked, said "Its hot in here"
Aunty cross the line one more time, can't come back in here
Yeah, yeah, don't you play with me
Aunty told unc "Don't make it hot for the neighbors 'cross the street"
Aunty in the street twerking and she ain't hear a beat
I beat that work so fucking bad, like I had thirty feet
Crack cocaine, crack cocaine
When I learned how to cook it, feel like I hit the seventh grade
When I went to middle school, was punching bitches in they face
I was fresh as shit back then and still fresh as shit today
Swear to God I seen unc lift his Honda with my eyes
'Bout to pop a blood vessel, unc get crazy when he get high
This that holy Lord, goodness gracious, I ain't gonn' lie
Dope so good, aunty'll sell you a kidney out the side
'Bout to loop the beat and talk about heroin
[Verse 2: RX Papi]
DawgShit Records
I got dog in the blender, dog on the plate
Bitch keep calling me a dog, hoe fuck out my face
Licks blowing up the same phone my baby mama call
Either a bitch or a lick, back to back, its getting annoying
A nigga talk crazy, put a band on him
A hunned wax bags, scoop and a half, with a stamp on it
My white boy came twenty short for a bundle
I might give him a deal but better know that I don't trust him
Smack the shit out the dog, I'm a shiesty motherfucker
Dang dang who? Bitch better not compare me to a sucker
I got dog on me nigga, not a leash on it
Dope boy, Dickies suit, I still got the crease on 'em
Cuz want half of the slab, give me six hundred
Bust down Cartier on me, bitch that's brick money
If I don't know how to do none, I know how to get money
Every time I walk in this bitch, I got that shit on me
He stressed as shit, wanna call it quits, 'cause his bitch on me
DawgShit Records, we walk in like the new army
I was in the eighth grade, still catching smack licks
Stick hit his back, it'll probably make him back flip
My lick OD'd, her friend said "I want some of that shit"
I'm a real dope boy, there ain't no way you gonn' get catfished
I beat the fuck out the bowl, surprised I don't got a bad wrist
She wanna ride with the drugs for me, that's a bad bitch
Dope dealer, bitch I got more white on me than Brad Pitt
Unc tryna find a vein, he mad, this his last attempt
He normally shoot up in his foot, today he shot up in his wrist
You gotta be a real dope boy just to talk like this
DawgShit Records, East or West, we gonn' talk that shit
