Rap-A-Nomics

[Verse One] [Reks]
A little liquor to the ass, fall for fast sports, drugs, and entertainment
We in the game with insane criminals who claim vics
Used to play the basement, house parties, ages raging
In the teen age, adolescent stage and smoke blunts outrageous
In the days my papes was minimal, craving similar wages
As the drug dealers, they was so caked up
We admired, laced up Jordans, sporting faded cuts, hater what
Teacher said it made to make a buck
Living so fast, waking up
Wondering where the last ten years went
Put a ring on her finger, I ain’t been back since
By back I mean the innocence
In a sense I still reminisce on the tenements
President-chasing, Timb-lacing
Benefit from yesterday’s days man
It’s hard to replace them, amen

[Chorus] [Reks]:
Rap-a-nomics, grabbing dollars we all crave
We was brought up in the hood so the hood stays
Passing bottles, my niggas rep their good haze
Laughing, reminiscing on the days we worked
Rap-a-nomics, grabbing dollars we all crave
We was brought up in the hood so the hood stays
Passing bottles, my niggas rep their good haze
Laughing, reminiscing on the days…

[Verse Two] [Slaine]:
Back in the booth with a snake tongue, crack in my tooth
In the mouth of madness my lungs were hacking up truth
From the Warchester ? store back of my youth
Or my Dorchester steps with my jacket and boots
I rose to fame in this game, started stacking my loot
Captain and juice swirling in my cup, acting obtuse
A nut, hunger stirring in my gut, danger lurking in the dark
Curtains now I’m coming up, anger certain in my heart
Fear’s never in my eyes, I can make Medusa blink
And I been known to get stoned, I been known to do some drinking
I’ve been pounding vodka riding shotgun in a boosted Lincoln
I been broke and stupid so I know the way the user thinking
I looked around and I elevated my strategy
I persevered when I felt the weight of a tragedy
I plotted a scheme and made you into casualties
They hate it how I made it, I can tell the way they’re mad at me

[Chorus]

[Verse Three] [Torae]:
I remember rubber band strings, knot after knot
Inside of a Nike box before cheddar was gwap
Before the chain and the watch and the bezzle with rocks
Niggas small time, peddle for props
I would heavily watch the block, big shot till he got knocked
Then the nigga under him ended up taking his spot
And the cycle never end, you wonder where it’ll stop
A lot of dudes still stuck in the spot
Still stuck on the block, the block radius
The way they moving is the craziest
Round a bunch of them up and play them this
Saying this the truth, ain’t real as the pudding in proof
Depends on what you spit in the booth
What I’m giving to the youth still relate to the old
Just one saying it’s hot, the other saying it’s cold
Through lights, cameras, and action, glammer, glitter, and gold
Nigga the flow spilling out of my soul, you know

[Chorus]