Lyrics
yo, if the streets is my family , then what is my home,
ain't got no friends mothafucka , i struggle alone,
walk the deep streets, get to jerome,
she the jamaican mothafuckz, so i know somethings wrong,
the bitches dressing proper, ooh nga, they gone,
cuz these jamaicans is crazy,
its' like a bowl of mash, and no fucking gravy,
come on man, ima ask ya how ya day be,
pull out the switch, snatch ya car keys,
but bet, turned out to be a jeep,
it's looks brand new like it's mine to keep,
and i'll even ask this mothafucka for a damn receipt,
come back next week, refund that money,
plus add a buck and change , my greed''is hungry,
shit is funny, how ya ass try to son me,
talking mad shit, like you know i got the gun on me,
come on homie, you looking type lonely,
bet take a nap, and yo money'z gon be gon B,
hazardous, by the morning ,
yeah, another one minute hitta,
neva in my life , will i be recognized a quitta,
with so much gunz and knifes, you know that ima killa,
fuck ya momz and wife, even ya sister,
no respect fa femalez, even in court i would hit her,
teach her a lesson, then afta that dismiss her, mothafucker'z
