[ Featuring Conductor Williams ]
Three hundred units on the fink, she'll f*ck if she wink (it's Blocks)
It's ConCreatures written in blood, permanent ink (exactly)
Head up, my back against the wall, had to turn to the streets
If I should die, I'll serve a twenty-year term in the clink (let's get it)
Me and Skerm in the ghetto, gang disturbin' the peace (gang gang)
He deserved what he had comin', reserved him a seat (grrt)
Pulled the chair from beneath him, snatched the ground from under his feet
Now his body under a sheet, indecent proposal (ayy)
On Six Mile, Brick Mile, then Pembroke and Stovall
Still grindin' 'til my bank statement lookin' like my socials (yes)
Backin' Wraith out the garage, I'm through the stratosphere
Parked the coupe next to the Dodge, hopped in that Wagoneer (it's on)
Can't even lie, ain't even mad because I know the truth (yeah)
For every one, my 'migo throw me two, he tryna break the border
Hate to sound like a broken tape recorder (uh-huh)
I mean, the only thing that they was ever better at was taking orders
'Cause it's some truth in every lie and every smart remark (uh-huh)
Allergic to the FBI, how long that car been parked?
He lucky that he never spoke, he kept that shit silent (shh)
'Cause it's some truth in every joke and all them slick comments
Can pick your poison, pick your plot, but you can't pick your coffin
'Cause it's some truth in all that gossipin' and pillow-talkin' (that chit-chat)
My shooter still'll let it fly out his grandmother Buick (grrt)
'Cause it's some truth in every lie, the truth is undisputed
Street life is my love language, on the east side with the rump shaker (yeah)
Buck fifty, that's a club banger, real pot-scrape, no pump-fake (oh)
Let the smoke clear and the dust settle, seen more white than a tongue scraper (yeah)
Worker ran off with the lunch special, caught up with him like a month later (live)
Made him break it down like his name was Tex, sent him on a highway up to Heaven (uh-huh)
Meet the dealer, I never left, niggas say he real, I ain't never met him (uh-uh)
I hope y'all niggas been savin' up, just opened up a new line of credit (yeah)
Plug say he got a mangy mutt, if it's hit I'll never pet it
Give it to you just how I get it, streets know I got the right mix (yes)
Stacked up the whole bandemic, came out swingin' to the right pitch (yeah)
I'ma do the most, no hitters, but make the most money dope-dealin' (correct)
All night, hand-to-hand with it, pot whippin' with the ice chips (X)
Four clinkin' in the Pyrex, floor safe full of I-racks
Touchin' down was a cakewalk, I was more nervous on the drive back (ayy)
Work pure as a mother's love, nigga play with that bag, we gon' cut up a rug (grrt)
Never been too fine, now all of them wires crossed, let's get it
Damn, Conductor, where'd you find this?
