Food Stamp

(album: Dead Flowerz - 1996)

Nigga gotta have money, by all means necessary
Life or death

Deep in the boondocks where niggas pack Glocks
Everybody trying to come up, slanging crack rock
Man made money, now money makes man
Living life, in the fast lane, short lifespan
Now... I, gots, to get some dough
Living the life of crime's the only life I know
Me and my brother J-A-Y, we do or die
Murder you all with no alibi
For dollaz
It makes me holla
Cash flow getting low
Streets dried up, aye, they be moving slow
In this game, such a dirty shame
You know my name
I'm with the rest of the hustlas, fuck the fame

I'm getting mail (getting mail, getting mail)
[x8]

They call me UPS, Federal Express
Untouchable nigga, Eliot Ness
Chef Boyardee learned to cook up a KI
Don't get high off your own supply
Went from nigga dreams, to having C.R.E.A.M
Weight breaking triple beams
Stare in the eyes of some dope fiends
Amphetamines got my hood on lockdown
Jealous-ass niggas won't allow me to put the Glock down
I had to sacrifice my family and friends
Just to clock these ends, rolling in a Benz
It's kinda lonely at the top, but it don't stop
Time to do the flip-flop, with the crack rock

I'm getting mail (getting mail, getting mail)
[x8]