Released: January 27, 2016

Featuring: The Game Dave East

Songwriter: The Game Dave East Cherp

Producer: Dee Blaze Trakmatik $olo

[Interlude]
Drug Buyer: So, bottom line is we short and you gon' have to let us hold all of that
Eazy-E: Oh yeah? My people sittin' right across the street from your momma house right now 'cause if I don't show up, they gon' show out
Green Leaf, right? That's the street she stay on?
Drug Buyer: You really wanna take it there?
Eazy-E: You already took it there

[Verse 1: Cherp]
Straight outta options like a pro style
Got these rap niggas sketchin' nigga's profile
Niggas havin' more beef than a steakhouse
Police on your ass like a lifetime steakout
[?] broke, ain't no more safe routes
Black mask, black gloves, buy a nigga safehouse
Stay with the heat, nigga, like I'm D-Wade
Ghetto gospel even though that bar cliché
My life crisis, nigga, ain't no more rebates
Momma sell her soul on Ebay to keep her seed safe
I'm Creepin On Ah Come Up, ass bettin' keister money
Lord knows they ain't real like the Easter bunny
Fuck a food stamp, niggas need that real money
The type of shit that made Rich Porter uncle kill Sonny
Niggas playin' with that loot'll get you laid down
A fifth rock, knock him out his boots, like H-town

[Chorus: Cherp]
Comin' from the projects, straight up out them options
Nigga had to get his shit jumpin' like a mosh pit
It's usual, niggas gon' hate you 'til the funeral
That's why I bag grams 'til my nails to the cuticle
Comin' from the projects, straight up out them options
Nigga had to get his shit jumpin' like a mosh pit
It's usual, niggas gon' hate you 'til the funeral
That's why I bag grams 'til my nails to the cuticle

[Verse 2: Dave East]
All my niggas violent, all my niggas timeless
All my women dimes, I can't keep 'em off my conscious
Harlem where they found this, Louis with the brown tips
I just press a button, drop a bomb and make the ground split
I was on my pound flip, index hit the downshift
Radio don't work in the hooptie, go get the sound fixed
Guccis? They're my lounge kicks, standin' on the sofas
Hammer with a scope, no need more liquor, I'ma smoker
Straight faced, go get some cake face, not playin' poker
Best period, why so serious? You niggas Jokers
They delirious, curious like George get banana clip
L's had Santana Town was on my bandana shit
Different color crates, double XL, all my white tees
I just wanted Nikes, some are Tommy and Icees
With the lip read, delivered dimes on a ten-speed
Never been to Memphis on my Grizzly
These niggas iffy

[Chorus: Cherp]
Comin' from the projects, straight up out them options
Nigga had to get his shit jumpin' like a mosh pit
It's usual, niggas gon' hate you 'til the funeral
That's why I bag grams 'til my nails to the cuticle
Comin' from the projects, straight up out them options
Nigga had to get his shit jumpin' like a mosh pit
It's usual, niggas gon' hate you 'til the funeral
That's why I bag grams 'til my nails to the cuticle

[Verse 3: The Game]
Longnose to your temple, now you straight outta options
Attitude like I just watched Straight Outta Compton
I went from cockroaches to sleepin' on the Doc's sofa
One of those, these are Tom Ford's, not loafers
My gun's bi-coastal, bitches bisexual
My niggas by your momma house, go whatever directs you
Aftermath affection, Westside Connection
Ice Cube's in my ear, Dre Beats in the Tesla
Why these niggas stay gassin' they self? I went electric
Still talkin' 'bout your old block? Niggas playin' Tetris
Nigga shoot you in your face, fuck a message
I got niggas that do murders and can't wait to get arrested
I know Mexican mafia copycats hang you from the Brooklyn Bridge
Tie your intenstines round your legs where your socks be at
Keyser Söze in a Sox hat
Nose ring, fuckin' bitches, thug, like Pac back

[Chorus: Cherp]
Comin' from the projects, straight up out them options
Nigga had to get his shit jumpin' like a mosh pit
It's usual, niggas gon' hate you 'til the funeral
That's why I bag grams 'til my nails to the cuticle
Comin' from the projects, straight up out them options
Nigga had to get his shit jumpin' like a mosh pit
It's usual, niggas gon' hate you 'til the funeral
That's why I bag grams 'til my nails to the cuticle
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