Yo, i be puttin it down for the mile high city...
My style is vile, and its wild so ride wit me...
Im auspicious, wasnt taught to talk vicious...
But ever since a tot, ive faught and sought riches...
Im sick wit it, full of shit and quick witted...
Loaded up a clip, and bitch, the Sig spit it...
I stay blazing, purple haze and play station...
Life is like a maze, it pays to stay patient...
Im just clever, is there someone i trust? Never...
So i aint tappin that ass unless i just met her...
This is hip hop, not another one of life's pit stops...
Sometimes to survive, you gotta open up the ziplock...
But leave it at that, if its weed in a bag...
Ya fine, but past that, you'll be needin rehab...
Ive seen it before, i did OC at the store...
Pretty soon, every day i was fiendin for more...
You start by poppin percocet or maybe a vicodin...
Pretty soon, you realize you really are likin it...
But OC aint cheap, and i aint got that dang change...
Oh well, guess what, heroin's the same thing...
Great, look Mom, your sons a heroin junky...
Even spittin this shit it gets embarassin, fuck me...
But im clean now, and lookin back i see how...
Much control i lost, im so glad im free now...
But fuck what just happened, im back to just rappin...
Perfecting my style, and fixing whats lackin...