[Yung Berg:]
|
Yeah
|
You know, always been a starter yung'un don't do beach
|
Home grind derby, I'm headed for the feets
|
But instead of niggaz standin up and cheer for me
|
Wanna see my momma cry, homies pour beer for me
|
I mean, once again I'm a product what you made me
|
Solid as a Roc I couldn't sign with Jay-Z
|
See first Infrared, and then Bloodline
|
Now I'm a young boss and shorty it's grill time
|
Back tatted for my niggaz cause I love mine
|
And now this real talk, is no punchline
|
Yeah, and I ain't speakin no riddles
|
My bro had squares with stamps in the middle
|
He used to take trips they would pack up the rental
|
Pop was at the crib, still workin on a demo
|
Yung livin reckless, blowin on chronic
|
Momma sent me off to school, said her son was demonic
|
Secluded from the world, I couldn't see trees
|
But it gave me time to grow a little, time to do me
|
Writin raps in my head no beat
|
Fucked up bed, one pillow, no sheet
|
And my pops wrote a letter in about a month it reads
|
"Your time's comin soon you'll be out in a week"
|
I moved out to Cali with my big sister Eve
|
She had faith in a yung'un she just told me BELIEVE~!
|
Believe [echoes]
|
|
-----------------
|
Interlude
|
| Yung Berg |
