6'n the morning' police at my door
Fresh Adidas squeak across the bathroom floor
Out the back window I make a escape
Don't even get a chance to grab my old school tape
Mad with no music but happy 'cause I'm free
And the streets to a player is the place to be
Gotta knot in my pocket weighin' at least a grand
Gold on my neck my pistols close at hand
I'm a self-made monster of the city streets
Remotely controlled by hard hip hop beats
But just livin' in the city is a serious task
Didn't know what the cops wanted
Didn't have the time to ask
Word
Ahh that used to be my ringtone. Sing along now, Word!
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