Old Nigga

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Mr. Tantrum

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Created by yellow tape and chalk lines
Lived anonymous I.D. was just a gang sign
Hard headed like ball hogs at crunch time
Ready to eat with all my niggas like a lunch line
That pyrex glass was very good to me
It helped me bring it all back like good memories
The paper was stacking like Sunday newspapers
Enough to spread the cheese around like a pizza maker
But that dough sauce and cheese is a bad mix
Niggas a melt ya mozzarella wit a bread stick
Leave you leaking out yo sauce on the cold ground
And you done knew that very nigga since the playground
The delivery man is now ya kill man
So every time ya eat don't post it on ya Instagram
I'm just a old nigga stuck in his old ways
But them old ways gotta nigga breathing today
Old nigga Old scars
Young at heart and still got bars
Hard living my pen written with street diction
These gray hairs on my head won't let me write fiction
Old nigga Old scars
Young at heart and still got bars
Hard living my pen written with street diction
These gray hairs on my head won't let me write fiction
I'm from a family of predators so there's no assuming
That I can get you in a second wit no second guessing
My recollection don't need google for fact checkin
Disrespecting can get you blue like an iMessage
Leave a street message nah but for the record
These young niggas don't listen til they up in prison
Adding that hot water to a soup beef or chicken
Waiting ta hear they name called for a family visit
I'm from the era of struggle and blazing gun muzzles
When street chemists helped baking soda stop bubble
When niggas shot the shoulders then shared a gin and soda
And you would never see a shirt that read free a soldier
Cuz it's part of the game to get them handcuffs
It was the life that you chose so nigga man up
Do yo time expand yo mind and build up
And hold yo head up and never let ya tail tuck
Old nigga Old scars
Young at heart and still got bars
Hard living my pen written with street diction
These gray hairs on my head won't let me write fiction
Old nigga Old scars
Young at heart and still got bars
Hard living my pen written with street diction
These gray hairs on my head won't let me write fiction
Reality is multiple kids multiple bids
I wanted to pen stuck on the bridge
Rappin or gig I needed to live needed to give weeded for ends
And all of that blurred my creative lens
Now I'm back focused but it aint no hocus pocus
The only magic I'm bringing is when my pens smoking
No mo locing I'm sprained back with knees swollen
But I'll forget about my pains if you start provoking
I'm a regular nigga regular job
Regular money I overcame irregular odds
I'm not a statistic prison is a memory vivid
Make a spread once a year so I never forget it
I know what I'm worth unimmaculate at my birth
And I done done so much dirt that my name could be Earth
I gave it my best legend street veteran rep
Graffiti mural in my set to celebrate my death
Old nigga Old scars
Young at heart and still got bars
Hard living my pen written with street diction
These gray hairs on my head won't let me write fiction
Old nigga Old scars
Young at heart and still got bars
Hard living my pen written with street diction
These gray hairs on my head won't let me write fiction

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