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Used to have my pack, son
Now, I'm under L.A. sun (L.A. sun)
They love to bring me up
We were just irrelevant (irrelevant)
Don't wanna be in the same room with the elephants (same room with the elephants)
This time I haven't slept
I'm meant to speak
Might be the best place for me
This ain't no place to be (ohh)
This ain't no place for me (ohh)
Out of sight
Out of mind
Out of space for me
Two seasons, better see
Into space with me (one of one, of one)

Now, I'm in the middle of the proyects
With a pocket full of bags
Murder on my story
But, they still don't understand
I'm still the man
That these goofies can't stand
Tiptoes, I stick
Tell me, who can stand the chance?

I'm tryin' to show 'em one on one
One on one, no one on one
As you wanted done
You could still die with your gun
Tryna overload my fuzz
Had to cut out all the fun
Pull my shit, I get it done
I'm talkin' about shit
I'd really die (okay)
Pull up, and what's that? who this? (who)
I'm really that (yeah)
I just put the hood on my back, and on the mat
I go check, for check, for check, for check
And give 'em tax
I don't come with feelings attached
I'm going plain
I'm so tired and sick
I pulled my back on this brick
My outfit cost a brick (yeah)
I look like a lit (woo)
I'm fly like a bird (ayy)
I don't say a word
I know that's prolly what you heard
Them niggas ain't had no words for me
They left me on the kerb
I might end up doing niggas dirty in return
My respect you gotta earn
I've been lettin' bridges burn
I've waited impatiently
I'm chasin' faithfully
Ain't shit you gon' take from me

Now, I'm in the middle of the proyects
With a pocket full of bags
Murder on my story
But, they still don't understand
I'm still the man
That these goofies can't stand
Tiptoes, I stick
Tell me, who can stand the chance?

You know, it ain't over on my jeans (over my jeans)
Few saw disco on my jeans
New belt can't hold up my jeans
You can see the roll on my jeans
Burst out the seems
They don't want to believe
But, it is what it seems (okay)
I ain't run it up enough
I won't be no runner up
I won't clutch if I don't burst
What the f- they want with us?
If it's somethin', leave your stuff
Zero f-, I'm givin' up
This shit ain't none of us, you ain't one of us

Now, I'm in the middle of the proyects
With a pocket full of bags
Murder on my story
But, they still don't understand
I'm still the man
That these goofies can't stand
Tiptoes, I stick
Tell me, who can stand the chance?
(Tell me, who can stand the chance?)
(Now, I'm in the middle of the proyects)
(With a pocket full of bags)



Credits
Writer(s): Evenson Clauseille, Vitkeer Lassiter-brown
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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