[Verse 1: Fam-Lay]   Hmmm...yes sirrrrrr   Rock and roll, man roll and rock   I got tens, got twentys, got fifty blocks   I got smoke to buy, coke for sale   Sold much coke, got coke in jail   In the white Rolls Royce with my man Pharrell   This lil' nigga got beats too fresh to be stale   But I'ma take you back to the early eighties   When my cousin Stacey had the pearl Mercedes   My aunt cousin Wack had the black on black   Ac' coupe Legend with the gold in the back   I was just a lil' young'n runnin' wild as hell   Runnin' round wild trynta get that mail   Lil' shorty dudes trynta learn the grooves   I was twelve years old brought it to the school   Cause I was quick to flip, quick to sell that shit   You ain't from the hood, y'all don't know bout this      [Hook 1]   But if you feel me, throw your bows up (Star Track)   Try to set up shop get glowed up   Hey, I'm the candyman, I got mo' than frozen cups   I got your chop top sour diesel roll-ups   Fam! we can roll up (Star Track)   But Fam! don't try to roll up (Star Track)   Don't make me pull these motherfuckin' fo's up   Cause it's like that      [Verse 2: Fam-Lay]   The fiends is dyin', things is lyin'   Missin' on the streets, so the fiends is still buyin'   Right on time and money on the mind and   On them twenty-fo's, them bit-ches straight shinin'   But y'all niggaz don't know bout this   Fresh new kicks with the new outfit   Got the all black top with the black on black   You ever see me creepin, just back on back   Cause I got that pump and it is gon' spit   I ain't no punk and I ain't no snitch   From a place on Earth called Huntersville   Where people out there got love for real   Got love for all who got love for me   If a coward ever ran then it wasn't me   I'll be on the curb movin' dubs and d's   And if you ever bought a dub then it was for me   I ever get caught then it was to be   I'ma just make bail by my cousin E   Back on the Porsche with the mobile phone   Like eleven in the mornin' them hoes to go home   Trynta score and get this shit off quick   You ain't from the hood, y'all don't know bout this      [Hook 1]      [Hook 2]   Aww shit, this is the part when the fight just start   When the fists get to swingin' and the four-fifths spark   And then the bitches get to runnin' and the bitch just scream   And we spin off in Rolls and it's so damn clean      [Verse 3: Fam-Lay]   I stand on my block, the cam on the spot   My hands in my pocket, both hammers is cocked   Waitin' for a nigga to just act up   My right hand big six, got my bait back up   Niggaz lookin' all jealous, lookin' mad as hell   Actin' like lil' girls, like tattle-tales   Mad cause my right hand bad as hell   I would've kept shootin', but I had a sale   See, I'm a crime boss three sixty-five   Lookin' for a Nina Ross, she just can ride   Picked up my cash and slide all sweet   Nigga tried to snatch ass, knocked his heart off beat   Nigga talk trash like the shit all sweet   Wont'cha all take the cash dogg, not off me   Hustlin's in my veins - you cannot stop it   Walkin' on the block with life in my pocket   I'm trynta score and get this shit off quick   You ain't from the ghetto, y'all don't know bout this      [Hook 1]      [Hook 2]