This goat chose the thug life

me be treated like a punk, you know that's unheard of

You better watch how you're talking and where you're walking

Or you and your homies might be lined in chalk

I really hate to trip but I gotta lope

As they croak I see myself in the pistal smoke

Fool

Im the type of G the little hommies wanna be, got my knees in the night saying prays to the street lights

Been spending most their lives living in a gangster's paradise.