10, 9, 8, 7

[Intro: D Smoke]
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Quincey, you better tell these niggas what it's like

[Chorus: Quincey White]
I stay ten toes down
Got a nine full of rounds
Roll an eighth of the loud
I'm on the 7, bitch
On the 7, bitch
I stay ten toes down
Got a nine full of rounds
Roll an eighth of the loud
I'm on the 7, bitch
On the 7, bitch

[Verse 1: Quincey White]
Yeah, uh
When y'all was learning your ABCs, I was learning sign language
On how to throw up the park and recognize what other sides claiming
No one, two, trees, just .223s, rival gang sprayin' 'til they all layin' with eyes dilated
No one gon' hold your hand and cross these streets
Danger, who that nigga and that MC?
Pass thе clip
We finna play tag, you it
Blast a fifth
Play on my corner, coroner bags will zip
I knеw this dude from school name Rayvon, he was a fool
Super Blood, would't use a crayon if it was blue
He rocked Levi's with Calvin Klein shirt, whatever shoes
Had red strings, I mean, he was truly a Damu
Our white Black history teacher played us rude
So Rayvon said he ain't from Africa, he from Piru
My whole family tree is with it too
Like a family full of doctors and lawyers, i follow suit

[Chorus: Quincey White]
I stay ten toes down
Got a nine full of rounds
Roll an eighth of the loud
I'm on the 7, bitch
On the 7, bitch
I stay ten toes down
Got a nine full of rounds
Roll an eighth of the loud
I'm on the 7, bitch
On the 7, bitch

[Verse 2: Quincey White]
Listen
I'm on Pacific Standard Time
Where niggas grip pistols to feel a rush, to hear whistles and stand in line
Acting off impulses and instinct with no end in mind
Jackin' off only option when shackled and spendin' time inside
I'm tired of that tough dumb shit
Bullets severed your spine, talkin' 'but you used to run shit
Got a heater on me, still, I hate that gun shit
I'd rather square up, catch fair ones, to me, that's fun shit
But niggas out here low vibration, no appreciation for life
Shit, I might exterminate you, nigga (Nigga)
If I'm high key honest, I turn gangsters into scholars, every time they hear this Terminator
I worked white collar, no crime
Blue collar, no gang lines
Real gang ties
Cousins from the beats and they blue veins live
Still the 7 tatted on me, wonder why? Go to Inglewood

[Chorus: Quincey White]
I stay ten toes down
Got a nine full of rounds
Roll an eighth of the loud
I'm on the 7, bitch
On the 7, bitch
I stay ten toes down
Got a nine full of rounds
Roll an eighth of the loud
I'm on the 7, bitch
On the 7, bitch

[Verse 3: D Smoke]
How you gon' hate on God's son? Man, that's blasphemy
I be on go like someone after me
I'm from where an average day catastrophe
Not used to triumph, just the trials and the tragedy
Uh, soldiers in Iraq stressed from the post trauma
Growin' up in the set, I— mmm, when I see Impalas
Chevy creeped on 'em first time I seen a homi'
Said I ain't seen nothin', but in my dreams, it still haunt me
That was on my sixteenth birthday, ayy
My sweet sixteen came with gunplay
Learned how to drive in a drive-by, road rage
Make 'em turn, kiss the Glock, that was first base, mwah
Never took the SATs
My circle bubblin' came from ese's kis
Graduated to the bigs once I hit eighteen
No Penn State, judge gave me full ride to the state pen'

[Chorus: Quincey White]
I stay ten toes down
Got a nine full of rounds
Roll an eighth of the loud
I'm on the 7, bitch
On the 7, bitch
I stay ten toes down
Got a nine full of rounds
Roll an eighth of the loud
I'm on the 7, bitch
On the 7, bitch