Cocaine on the table, I wasn't always able
I watch these niggas get rich all in these fuckin' fables
They like to cook the numbers, we don't cook the numbers
We just want the summer, you can have that woman
These niggas really out here trippin' mane
I can't feel my face
I can't feel my face
I was whippin' on the stove and watchin' bootleg cable
I was whippin' on two pots like I was Hussein Fatal
I was diggin' through the crates like Big L, Joe Crack, baby
Have a shootout on that corner, right by Larry Davis
Shoutout the G, we roll ourselves, you block, them boys who's dangerous
Got me mixin' pills and liquor, I can't feel my face
Shoutouts to the Lynch Mob, they make the hood famous
Gangsta, what your name is?
Gangsta, what your name is?
These niggas really out here trippin' mane
I can't feel my face
I can't feel my face
Lord, thank you for all the aspiration you gave us. You tell, tell Buddha, he say for every day you wake up, you're born again. Sometimes, I gotta, I have you act like you sometimes. You know this. You act like I don't see nothin'. You know, I act like I'm just numb to the, to the pain 'cause I'm bleedin' on the inside. That's why I do the things I do