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My life is trapped in these lines | That's why I'm packin these nines | I gotta rap I ain't dyin'
My life is trapped in these lines That's why I'm packin these nines I gotta rap I ain't dyin' That's in the back of my mind Got a strap made of iron Can't relax on this grind Bendin' over backwards for these slackers Til' I'm snappin' my spine Natural high, I gotta focus On these bogus poachers Lookin' over my shoulder Proof get it poppin' like soda Hold up (We nothin' but soldiers) Slow up (This car and it's loaded) Roll up (They beef n' we leaving em' cooked up) If Slim say it I spray it If he will it I kill it We Kilpatrick and Illich of Detroit Y'all can feel it Will at this gun on my waisteline At war we dont waste time Ja, man can't take a punch And 50 can take nine, (BLAOW!) We got Schoolcraft here at the 7, 8 and Dexter I'm up in Holly spendin' dollars, ain't feelin' no pressure Yes sir, your texture's a bitch Betcha ya flinch, when Proof shoot up they coup And waste your whole clique
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