Spoken text

Uh, the only hope I had was selling dope
Was on my grind cause times were harder than a cellar floor
My momma taught me never steal and never tell on folks
I grew up looking at the niggas that was selling coke
Oh, I was raised by the stop sign
No religion I was getting saved by the glock nine
By the minute I was getting paid like a hot line
Servin’ fiends was calling, we was dot com
Well connected, well respected and well protected
Aint get accepted, well rejected and now they regret it
Aint get my message, was a signal when I was texting
The bitch I was calling was fraud and I learned my lesson
Now I move with aggression, use my mind as a weapon
Cause chances are never given they tooken like interceptions
So throw that pass, I’ll be the Quarter back
Me and Folarin MMG gon bring that Warner back