[Verse THURZ]
Product of the riots
Product of fatherless planes but mom knew how to fly it
I guess I'm raised pilot
Flying with the porch we at my eye lid
Glues open to the rat faces trying to plot in silence
That's why we dead them
Keep them quiet
Bury them through the thought of my fate
That's eight plates, olympic weight
A few bodies of demons and snake niggas
[For that cemetary of the fake???]
Big business for morticians
No turning off that killer instinct
In addition to the recipe true spitting granny's [ambition(sp?)?]
Along with my grandpa, rest in peace old playa' ways
I think I got an uncle probably under my age somewhere
So you figure these broads is drawn to a real nigga with clear
Vision of where he came and where he going
That's mathematics, [attack your bitch ass home???]

[Hook]

[Verse ?]
Product of the [pro-op??]
Holler if you know about, playing around the grow-op
Too young to smoke trees
We all dreaming that we blow up, grow up grow out
Star hard, show out no diggity no doubt
On these black streets like an athlete
Marathon an honorable mention to the riot
We we're all an option
Wait? The mike or the Spalding
I chose the mike but the weight had me [??]
I spit cold for my [?] that know
From when we were young and they had us under police control
Cop charges in my teens, couple batteries
Had a couple ounces the sarge wanted to seize
Girls were on they knees
I'm dark, they automatically assume I have something large in my jeans
[Cities??] [raves?]
T.O. bread, stay grinding until I ball like Neo's head
Nigga

[Hook]