Stick Up Kids

[Verse 1: SAM R I]

Surviving through hell probably what my pen godly
10 bodies who was friends, now they're dead by me
We'd pack Buddha where ex cons would stash rugers
Ya mans grew up through hand to hand like Zab Judah

Car alarms and smoke detectors, a baby crying
God gave me lemons I hustled them to a great empire
Picture painted, but what’s the move if he gave ya iron?
I’m raised with lions no time to process who may be dyin

Drug abuse & troubled youth, what the pamphlet read
Dirty money, & real stories, no pageantry
Fam lost before they legal to drink
Breathing my soul into this shit cause I ain’t seeing no shrink

I got North, West, East and South kites that's flyin
Guys that’s dying that never seen their child smiling
Shit I learned from my tragic past, still all my habits bad
Raised in a habitat where breast milk had Ativan

[Verse 2: 7ven Thirty]

My pen bleed on paper like old scrolls
That’s full of pain Waking up anger of dead souls
In slave chains My team don’t dream to win gold
We take chains I’m trained in hunger games

You dont have the brain strength to run in the speed my mind goes
And change lanes Niggas can’t take the impact of a freight train
Far as your time here is concerned
It’s lookin real slim but a shot will give your body some weight gain

A bar smith with a sparring itch
Pulling heavy metal strings like guitar picks
The pen lead is full of butane and arsenic
With capability to turn any stage to a doom game

It’s only rap so I animate it
But you can get wrapped in plastic and laminated
Shit get dirty like a cloth that’s contaminated
I take energy like coffee that decaffeinated