Life on Holidae

I know how it feel to wake up fucked up
Pockets broke as hell, another rock to sell
People look at you like youse the user
Selling drugs to all the losers, mad buddha abuser
But they dont know about your stress-filled day
Baby on the way mad bills to pay
Thats why you drink tanqueray; so you can reminisce
And wish, you wasnt livin so devilish, ssshit
I remember I was just like you
Smokin blunts with my crew, flippin over 62s
Cause g-e-d, wasnt b-i-g
I got p-a-i-d, thats why my moms hate me
She was forced to kick me out, no doubt
Then I figured out licks went for twenty down south
Packed up my tools for my raw power move
Glock nineteen for casket and flower moves
For chumps tryin to stop my flow
And what they dont know will show on the autopsy
Went to see papi, to cop me a brick
Asked for some consignment and he wasnt tryin to hear it
Smoking mad newports cause Im due in court
For an assault, that I caught, in bridgeport, new york
Catch me if you can like the gingerbread man
You better have your gat in hand, cause man