It's the brown child, better version of the story   Sees Conji, a sister, mother played by Tori   In Astoria, kid named, Tiki took the cake   The greens and the steak and the potatoes and the plate      Never a dummy, rejections are funny   First years of my life I thought that food stamps were money   So by ten I was the mess, got a men and then I had friend   So now I'm snatching pocket books with Sean Wilkinson      ?Get that money, lil' nigga' that's what they told me   I never sweated props cause like my pops they couldn't hold me   Until he found shorty's got it going on, rolling on   Who told? Damn, bendecion      The Bland man and my pop don't give a damn   The day I played with matches, took the stove to my hand   Hot temperature, he told me the players' version   The ego in submersion for the end of week excursion      Until I'm back, back on the scene   Like a ball on the green, giving strokes with my team   And despite the commentary pop told me, I'm lowly   And moms change-bank can't hold me, so      She don't scold me, she just grabs the belt   Knuckle the buckle, tells me all about the pain she felt   At the precinct when a pre-teen was spotted at the scene   Came up with the green, not a cop could intervene      Listen here, you little motherfucker   You ain't going to fuck with me   Got me coming to this damn precinct   Dammit, I'm a kick your motherfucking ass   Shit, you ain't going to drive me crazy      Now, happens Tori met Tom, not too long ago   He was a nigga, yo, he said he had the flow though   He loved a bro, I know I didn't see you grow   To a TV show cause the nigga said we all could go      So I'm up and out of the ghetto, son of a gold miner   City slicking, Carolinian standing out like Ming China   A golden bull at heart though I moved around   The balls bounced to the bottom, settled at a small town      ?Hey, boy, what's your name??, first day, first fight   I'm out of New York and boy, it don't sit right if you're white   Light were my steps from there   Did my dirt on the low, a southern town nightmare      'Cause the next year it was me and Ef on the furlough   We were the only queens kids but there were other boroughs   With Rockwell, D-Ski, Ron Duke and Freddie   New York was represented like we danced for Rock Steady      Stan had tables and mics, every brother nice   Not only could we rip and rhyme but backspin and slice   With Paris and Foxy and Christina P's bust   You know them loud, raunchy, trouble-making niggas? That was us      A menace yet still I played tennis, ain't that cruddy   Advanced with the Reeboks, they called them, ?Cut Buddies'   I hung with one, only one younger brother   Shorty Doo-Wop could cut and scratch up any other      Bigger than his size, was barely five feet   In ?83 broke beats that today rock streets   With no one to grade it, still never debated   Some saw and hated but they never contemplated      It was the wild child with foul styles, pal but not foul   A dis was never okay unless it came before corral   Pals of mine, peoples though were down   I graduate next week and, yo, next week I'm NY bound      Seven days from that one I'm leaving love that weighs a ton   I'm going to miss you niggas, yo, that rapping shit was crazy fun   But I'm leaving on the next bus   I've got your numbers and we'll keep in touch, I trust      Gliding, riding back to my domain   For love and money, fuck fame, my life will never be the same   As the next man's words, can you dig it?   I say I got a scheme, a-yo, I gots you figured      Yo, wassup, wassup, is money out here?   Yo, I just got a call from that nigga, Tiki   Remember that nigga Tiki?   He on his way from down south      My real pops was a pusher when we left he had a section   So I keep it in the family or at least I make connection   With the prime figures for affiliated support   In my purchase of cargo in the import and export      Flushing, queens back when junkies was the fiends   My childhood friends held Buddha, had babies in dreams   I took pops off my shit list 'cause he had the fitness   To help Tiki get his, what the fuck, pop? Jehovah witness      What the fuck, pop? What's with the fizz-plop   I'm like, I can't put him down but the shit don't stop   Worked at a law firm, for lack of fear   I wrote a resume, spending words like a millionaire      From there to the bank, see the bank's down the block   So now I'm close to home, I clock, I plot   With popote   He's my cousin and a wily one      Though the kid was younger, quick like thunder   With the heart to put you under   Props even, the shit can't fail   I saw Reese, bagged with pote and made a sale      Go ahead, get that money, get that money   I ain't going to let nobody see you   I got your back, baby, I got your back   You want five? You only got two      On one late night, I had made a nice amount   More than two weeks pay, playing with the new accounts   So I rose like a petal, fuck pops, I run with thugs   Levis, Tims, hoodie, coat, skully, drugs      Fatigues before they were the fashion   Pockets with work and others with cash in   Thought I was cool with tools and mad trap   My pops was like, ?Read this?, but I was like fuck that      So I jingle-jangled, clocked at every angle   Tiki's getting paid and his crew's star-spangled   And everyday, all day, night, yo, whatever   Niggas on the strip in sub-zero weather      Back before the first generation of fiends   My team was sheer cream, keeping dollar bills green   Fashion, Calvin cooler, playing, Rick The Ruler   And I can't front on nobody cause I pulled on a woolah      Back in '86, first, foremost and final   Rhyming on the corner, all I want to be's on vinyl   I bum rush and boom bash, not even for merit   Bounce out to see Reg and Joe down on Merrick   But mostly it's the strip that I played like a cock   On the block until the day I got knocked