As we go through life, one of the big questions about things we purchase is what the value of it is. Is it really worth it? I used to be at the tunnel, 20 deep in the huddle. Razors on us that'll make skin bubble, more wet we guzzle. Chris Lighty lit me in a few times with nines. That's on God, wish you would've walked by and bumped me harder just. Looked at me wrong, my chain on, try to book me, you gone. Goons, Italian leathers, couple bottles of ***, took risks. This ain't what you want, there's rules to this. Don't get it misconstrued, my suit game was crisp. Silk linen chiffon, Dior to Dior Dora. But I rock custom more, the hustler aura, tap in. Razor cutter, 90's, 80's lover. Raised in gutters, raised above it. They made it about the hood subject, I made you love it. Crazy, I knew this chink, she had a blue Benz, a jersey penthouse. She used to pimp girls that would turn rich men out. Her cabbage was so savage, she hear voices that see ghosts on the average. Of her stepdad, he raised her from a carriage. She was 12 when he passed, she's been in hell since then. Her grandma raised her, I met her in Kingston, Jamaica. We're veteran champions, Baracus. Rest in peace, Louis Rankin, original, Don Dada. I'm a Jamaican road boy, I don't want a ramp with bumbuck like me. Come on, come on. I murder people for fun. Murder on a bumbuck like the fun. Y'all should love us. Life is a test, so congratulations to your success. For having patience. You deserve the best. You know how they do. The IRS. People I ain't even met. Take it out my check. They the biggest gangsta. I respect the jooks. We buying big boy matches. They respect the crooks. This for my project. And blue Benzes. Mercedes emblems. When they **** with them.