XXL Freshman Freestyle: Dave East

Everybody keep tellin me make a club record

You ain't trappin' no more, stop makin' drug records

Nigga you just had a daughter, stop makin' thug records

I brought that money back fast, I had the plug flexin'

Welcome to Harlem, El Barrio, that's the drug section

Hit your bitch with my jeans on, they makin' love naked

I got love for my local, but I know cuz reckless

I ain't gotta sleep in the projects, I did enough stressin'

My father was a rollin' stone, but taught me one lesson

Do your dirt by yourself, your friends be the ones tellin'

I know it broke my mother heart to see her son sellin'

I had coke in my dresser, trifling as ever had a dream

Biggie featured me on life after

I be with my same niggas

I don't really like rappers

Niggas can't make a song for nothin' but they nice actors

Go and get a movie role

Low baggin' up tuna rolls

Raw shit

I come from a block where you seen it but never saw shit

I be at the juice bar, my wheat grass and bark shit

My youngin' just came from up north, he tryna pop shit

Tryna teach him somethin' bout life and how we started

Lower class poverty, homies from jail callin' me

Playin' a number every day but never hit the lottery

Liquor store on every corner, might as well get drunk

I remember that free lunch, wasn't shootin we would jump, stump

Niggas like the end of the blunt

Trap slowed up, I told papi I got 'em by the end of the month

I was thinkin' bout 5 50's with the cinnamon guts

These shots will blow your mind away, now your memory dust

In memory of, I got a J.F. Kennedy buzz

Presidential, call Enterprise, I need another rental

Tryna take a package down to North Carolina

Maybe buy some Ferragamo, I'm so focused on these commas

If you never been broke it's gon' be hard to feel me

Only Allah in my vote, it's gon' be hard to kill me

They say practice make perfect, we at it every day

I'm thinking 'bout that consignment, sometimes I never paid

It was written, I'm gifted, homie come learn something

Conversations 'bout paper, baby come burn something

East side