1998 Freestyle - Trackmasters

(Verse 1)

Son I’m iller on the street

Than I am on wax

Or if you see me in New York

See me making me stacks

And if you see me on the island

See me taking a jack

And I think I’m all that

How yall niggas feel about that

Be careful

This rap shit it’ll get to your head

Have you screaming fuck the police when you scared of the feds

Here’s a jewel

Love your enemies

And hate your friends

Your enemies remain the same your friends always change

I travel, state to state

Stash box filled with weight

Jaguar XK8

Money machines countin papes

Kites with 5 words kill em now don’t wait

For 21 years I’ve been sober slingin dope and crack

1 year I’ve been down with rap son and I fuckin relapse

Hydro and hash I’m twistin it

Cash I’m gettin it

Cristal I’m sippin it

Hot shit I’m spittin it

(Verse 2)

Yo giving me flashbacks when I was young

I was laughed at

Here’s the facts

I had stash cracks

In my ass crack

Ayo some cats get shot

And some cats get smacked

And niggas get crazy and they don’t know how to fuckin act

Phone check

Dude get the fuck off the jack

Got a stash box with a mac

In a baby blue ac

Trynna find out where you rest at

So I could run up in that

Blast the gat

Run off with your stack

I’m on it like that

I’m livin like that

I’m eatin like that

Takin that cheese that’s the way it is man

And it’s like that