Jiah Zuniga - Solano (feat. B.S.) Lyrics

Yeah
This my life, real shit
Nigga
I missed 12 Christmas' and 11 summers
(Calendars)
That calender should already tell you how I'm gone run you
(Demo)
Four yards 180 towers with M1 gunners
(Get down!)
Tourist ,Piscas and white boys, they got us outnumbered
On lock down, reminiscing while my stomach rumbles
(Spread)
My Louie, Gucci, Fendi feeling very very humble
Lids, caps and papers them was my bundles
(On the block)
Get tobacco in $50 caps for green dot hundos
(You got them numbers)
Paid for Pop Warner football while I was in Solano
(Here go some new numbers)
Green dots for cleats and gloves, so f*ck all my doubters
(F*ck em')
$250 for the flip
$800 for the touch
(I'm up)
For all my niggas that's up
Smoking sticks, not giving a f*ck
$250 for the flip
(Yeah)
$800 for the touch
(Aye)
For all my niggas that's up
Smoking sticks not giving a f*ck
(Two)
$250 for the flip
$800 for the touch
(It checks out)
For all my niggas that's up
Smoking sticks not giving a f*ck
For all my niggas thats cut or stay solid to there bone
If you ain't understand them politics
You better leave that shit alone
(I ain't f*cking with it)
What's understood don't need to be said
It should be written in stone
(You with us)
For the big homie eating rice bowls
On his cell on his way home
$250 for the flip
$800 for the touch
(I'm up)
For all my niggas that's up
Smoking sticks not giving a f*ck
Yeah,
For all my niggas that's locked down getting paper
The hustling don't stop...
F*ck CDC
These cops, they need to understand that we run the show
Some get it, like Roberts
But the rest think,
The more they lock us down and isolate us it strips us from our power
They even think we close the books, that we're a dying breed
They're dead f*cking wrong
We're just real selective who we choose to call our brother
So the question is, are you ready...?
Yes