* From a small ass little tadpole swimmin in a fallopian tube  To a fixture on my soil, a stand up type a dude  I was brought up in the crack game dealin and pushin that stuff  Arguing with my folkers cause we loved eachother so much  Ditchin and dodgin the rollers, grippin the block real tuff  Strikin and scootin them Novas and them Chevrolet stepside trucks  Me and my brother Dennel, Kevin, Dalon, and Black  Little Ray, Billy, and Ivory and them from the Magazine Street camp  Posted up like thumbtacks, talking on faulty big backs  Motorola, A1 yola, glad bag fulla Tic Tacs  In the mean time, in between time, in my spare time writin raps  In the front yard, in the driveway, on the concrete shootin craps    You think you know, but you really don't have no idea  Listen to discography of E40, real talk for real  Moons ago, way before I even had a career  I got my nickname on the turf for drinking hecka beer  And never letting the older cats up in my hood pump fear  Funkin with my own soil, listen here  Jealous cause we had all the broads and all the gear  Up the ladder I'm tryin to climb, game sharper than a porcupine spine  Don't gimme nothing, I'ma work for mine, try and grind, grit and grind  Hot ones echo through the ghetto, funkin all the time  I thank the Lord for giving me the gift to spit this rhyme    A loaf of bread, a stick of butter and some milk  Around the corner from the spot where all the dealers dealt  Trials and tribul-i-zations, me and my peopl-i-zations  Tryin to get this music off the ground with high ass expectations  Took a little time and patience, a little faith in God  To make a long story short, look at me now sahob  I'm doing it chubby like the checker, chunky like the soup  A de- a decade and a half and still in the loop  In case you suckers didn't know, I told you once before  I ain't rapping too fast, see y'all just listening too slow  I paved the way for the independent grind  The industry they mimick me, but don't wanna gimme mine