Attention

[Chorus]

...ain't worried

Glidin' through the air, ain't cautious, yeah, yeah, yeah

Mind on the ground, ain't dreamin'

Thing on my waist been leanin', yeah, yeah, yeah

Hustle for a job, they still ain't called back

Dope in the hood ain't movin' like that, uh

Chain and your watch, I need all that, all that

M's in the bank, I need all that

So run it, mane

[Verse]

Front row at the Grammys, I'm getting praises from Jay

Fuck about this award, I'm happy he know my name

Favorite rapper Nas been told me that I'm the best

Had a couple sessions with Dre, knew I would win

Alchemist my favorite producer, and he my friend

All this love from the greats put my passion in pen

Let me tell you 'bout this story, when Quincy died, it had started

I left jail on house arrest and now ever since I've been starvin'

You know pain on my mama's face when the opps can call me a loser

Ain't achieve shit, her son quit sports to become a Crip

'Nother single mother that failed, lost her son in the mix

Workin' hard through all her problems, her son just couldn't be fixed

Got off house arrest, sprinkled some orange in my blue shoes

Nigga, ask Traffic, Baby Deuce, yeah, and T too

Baby Love, Baby Spank, Big Spank, Big Fool

The first Figg Side originals, you ain't gotta recruit

Tony Smack, Floyd, G-Scrap, nigga, the main crew

Flossy B was locked in, but was normal, he came through

Nigga, 51st and Figg, on the corner Mayhem was slaughtered

Months later like the shit ain't happen, I'm with my daughter

At the laundromat, the shots rang off, I ducked to the back

Wishin' for a strap but hear more fire from Tiny Rat

Got the devil on my side while the Lord been pushin' me over

I can finally understand why my uncles was never sober

Deadbeat dad on the gas, that gas my motor

Either grab the mic, nigga, grab the same pistola

I can easily tell my story now and climb from this moment

Just imagine Joy hopes if I died next mornin'

Just imagine some of these rappers that ain't have Q

The godfather of this street shit that gave y'all truth

From Pac, Snoop, Kurupt, Daz, bitch, I'm déjà vu

You see my homie in the hood 'cause I hate y'all too, ooh

[Chorus]

Death on my block, ain't worried

Glide through the air, ain't cautious, yeah, yeah, yeah

Mind on the ground, ain't dreamin'

Thing on my waist been leanin', yeah, yeah, yeah

Hustle for a job, they still ain't called back

Dope in the hood, ain't movin' like that, uh

Chain and your watch, I need all that, all that

M's in the bank, I need all that, all that

Ten freaky girls, need all that, all that

Love from the world, need all that

So run it, mane