yo, i'ma tell you bout me and my good ol' pal,
2 niggaz growin up from then till now,
we started at 50 pounds, battlin goin rounds,
i dusted him then, and the dust is still around,
the trust is still just words, it's not written down,
i'm a make it sittin sound,
he's fucked up, just livin life to clown,
so our lines a life, is the lifelines a two minds,
as different and seperate as stones for two grinds,
the signs came early,
like when i'm chillin on time this niggaz always in a hurry,
it hurts me to rhyme this cause we had the same plans,
but now he's sittin there dead broke salty in the stands,
watchin bliss deliver letters,
hatin like "i coulda delivered better"
now he's comin after me with all these personal vendettas,
i'd get myself a vest protector,
but his bitch ass ain't shootin a squirt gun at my leather,
i thought we'd be down forever,
now forevers never,
some ties don't stay tied they just knot up and gotta be severed,
i got up off that bullshit, cause i'm not week i'm better,
that's why i spend 7 days a week scriptin my next letter,
we got lost in that cold fog weather,
like we parted at the golden gate,
he never gripped his hand to fate,
couldn't move the slate that's why he never moved weight,
i'm always movin on time,
this nigga always moved late,
that's why he's in the same mind state,
while i'm changin, shiftin my mind space,
this nigga got caught with a glock in his face,
pulled back his own safety dumped and caught a case,
great, now my niggaz outa state up state,
but it ain't keepin me up late, cause this race don't wait,