Before I Doe

Money — they gon’ flaunt you, death — gon’ haunt you,

Hit the Nortes up, in the valley they gon’ dump you.

Homie got bagged, now his name in the sky,

Another young n***a turned ghost for pride.

We don’t do talkin’ — just codes and eyes,

If they fold under pressure, don’t act surprised.

Wrist stay froze but my heart got colder,

Made plays young, with the strap in the stroller.

Mama said pray, but the rent was due,

So I took to the block with that Hoover crew.

From the mud, where they never gave nothin’ free,

Now it’s Stringtown steppin’ in these 23s.

Still movin’ quiet but my name got weight,

Trying to stack racks, not seal my fate.

Already told you once — best check the file,

Ain’t no passes from Tacoma to the Snake River mile