[ VERSE 1: Eightball ]

Eightball the Fat Mac must express

While a nigga's gettin zooted from the potent-ass sess

Lookin back, damn, I was wild as a juvenile

Mama showed love and she struggled for her only child

But like my dad I was stuck in the streets

I never wanted to work hard, cause that shit ain't for me

Back then only 16, ignorant and curious

Mom's gettin periods cause I wasn't serious

I said fuck school teachers and the church preachers

I wanted to hang with my niggas with the street sweepers

Back in the days sellin herbs on the [Name]

Me and Squeaky doin city-wide talent shows

Gettin dissed, gettin pissed cause of this shit

Cause it's so hard in this muthafuckin business

I said many times, "Mama, I'ma make you proud"

But I could never leave the thug life of Orange Mound

I'm on the corner drinkin Thunderbird, slingin rocks

They in my hands cause the cops know 'bout the matchbox

But I can't sell dope, rappin is the way, gee

And this is just another day around the homies



[ VERSE 2: MJG ]

..mid day, I was deep into a sleep

Unconscious from that hay that they distribute on em streets

My world was constantly spinnin from the Rmy that was in me

And we ain't half-stepped on them blunts, we chiefed up plenty

A penny to be earned in a day is what I'm looking for

Hopin for, some kind of way to make a little more ducats

Fuck it, shit that I just needed, I just stuck it

Up, hell, nigga might as well

Proceed to hustle like a p-i-m-p

MJ fuckin G

The nigga with the muthafuckin clout, no doubt

The pimps is in the muthafuckin house

Be up out [Name], black folk is takin over

You know how I know? Gimme the mic and I show ya

I teach ya, I reach ya with this pimpalistic knowledge

The shit a nigga learned back in Break-A-Bitch College

Started, to hustle at the age of 11

Started makin money when a nigga turned 12

Started to induldge at the age of 13

At 14 a nigga flatfoot was raisin hell

In the muthafuckin hood



[ VERSE 3: Eightball ]

So many rappers in this industry, I don't doubt

That it's a bunch of niggas broke with a CD out

It ain't new to me, cause me and MJG

Had to struggle just to hustle down in Tennessee

In Memphis, tryin to be a rapper

But rappin don't mean shit to Elvis Presley-lovin crackers

Plus I'm with a record label gankin me and fuckin me

Niggas always promsisin me shit that I will never see

Trick-buster always talkin 'bout we family

But while I was rappin he was snortin up my royalty

So I got smart, hit the streets and said fuck that

That's when this nigga named T Money heard our first track

Pack em up, move em out, straight down to Texas

Me and JG ridin drop-top Lexus

"Coming Out Hard" on the charts in the 'Billboard'

Second album droppin and we waitin on our first award

Niggas talkin cause the crew ain't walkin no mo'

Them jealous busters tryin to start shit over hoes

I don't know what is worse, livin bad or livin good

But the whole world remind me of my neighborhood



[ VERSE 4: MJG ]

See, I'm a self-made hustler, trustin the

Niggas who think that two heads are better than one

And ready to get the job done, son

MJG gots game in the street sale

That makes me get lifts in the studio

Even though it was kind of hard as far as I can see

Growin up in the Orange Mound Tennessee community

Could it be the future had love for a nigga who

Struggled through all type of shit for a bill or two?

Still I do shows for my fans cause my fans buy my tapes

And the tapes make my g's and the g's keeps me straight

And I hate when the busters smile all in my face like a hoe

And talk shit in the down low

Look out, punk, mutha-fucka, sucka, niggas

My finger's gettin tired of the trigger, dig a

Grave, shit, cause I don't want his boys to have to deal

With the smell of the trick I just killed

???? if you can't hang with the stress, best

Wipe the big 'S' off your muthafuckin chest

Press issues, makin sure they fully understood

'bout a young nigga life in the muthafuckin hood