We gonna break this down and roll a blunt
|
YEAH
|
|
[Verse 1]
|
Since the seventh grade I was told I would never excel
|
Hopeless, I would either be dead or in jail
|
Destined to fail
|
But I done came to far to turn back
|
Just poor white trash from the wrong side of the tracks
|
I learned to add and subtract
|
And I never went back
|
To that lil' school I had been sent to
|
Find some shit I could get in to
|
Been through more by the time I was eighteen
|
Then most people go through before they thirty
|
I'm from the motherfucking dirty ( dirtyyy )
|
Trouble-maker, hard-headed motherfucker
|
In one ear and out the other
|
I got a brother named bubba
|
Different daddy same mother
|
Remind me of when I was younger lil' bad motherfucker
|
My told me son it's time to settle down
|
Momma your baby's a player and I get around
|
I be up all night gone on that Hennessey and weed
|
The only thing that helped me deal with all this jealousy and greed
|
|
[Chorus]
|
If I had a dollar for all of y'all
|
That wanna see me in my grave
|
I could just pack up and move away
|
And spend the rest of my days getting paid
|
If I had a dime for every time
|
Somebody tried to insult my game
|
I'd be in the islands doing fine
|
Counting money sipping some champaign
|
|
[Verse 2]
|
Wooo, inhale the weed smoke, ease my tension
|
I was a bad boy, in and out of juvenile detention
|
I grew up making bargains to get back on the streets
|
I concentrated on paper just to get back on my feet
|
I'm money minded, saw my people progress
|
Paranoid, I'm underneath a bullet proof vest
|
Staying stressed, peeping out the curtains knowing death is certain
|
I know them killers is lurking
|
Ha, Ha, Smirking when I ride by they broke ass
|
I aint stunting 'em, cause they aint making no cash
|
I'm gonna let them royalty checks accumulate
|
We so good with it there's nothing you can do but hate
|
|
[Chorus: repeat 1]
|
|
[Verse 3]
|
Whooo
|
I gotta be thinking I'm get my ass killed
|
Filled with strap kneel
|
Cause over the passed years it's bad here in Nashville
|
This one's for the homies that lost they life up on the battle field
|
Way before the record deals we pack steal, that's real
|
Dropped a CD at every jackhead club
|
Out to get me thinking I'm a million dollar motherfucker
|
But at night I can't sleep, I toss and turn
|
Visions of Benz's be bought and money being burned
|
I might not hit the billboard but I'm keeping it crunk
|
And I get much love in Beechwood and lil Will's trunk
|
you know no eastcoast to westcoast may not see that
|
I get big love where I be at, Bitch believe that
|
So many setbacks I got to try to overcome
|
I take another sip of liquor just to keep me numb
|
I know these haters love to catch me straight buck me and laugh
|
While that AK 47 shell cut me in half
|
|
Yeah, then you woke up you hater
|
Why don't you do something with your life
|
Get money boy, get up off yo ass
|
Stop hating on me and mine and get ya own
|
That's what the hell you need to do
|
Bring the hook back boy
|
|
[Chorus]
|
If I had a dollar for all of y'all
|
That wanna see me in my grave
|
I could just pack up and move away
|
And spend the rest of my days getting paid
|
If I had a dime for everytime
|
One of y'all tried to insult my game
|
I would just...
|
|
[Haystak]
|
First thing you know, Stak'll be a millionaire
|
What couldn't I do if I had that
|
(ha, ha, ha, ha ha)
|
|
-----------------
|
Dollar
|
Haystak |