| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 4:36 | 
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[Chorus]
Ay, who I'm is? Rubber band man Wild as the Taliban 9 in my right, 45 in my other hand Who I'm is? Call me trouble man, always in trouble man Worth a couple hundred grand, Chevys, all colors man [Verse 1] Rubber band man, like a one man band Treat these niggaz like the Apollo, and I'm the sandman Tote a hundred grand canon in the waistband Look'n fo' a sweet lick? well this is the wrong place man Seven tyme felon, what I care 'bout a case man? I'm campaignin' to bury the hate, so say yo' grace man Ay, I don't talk behind a nigga back, I say it in his face I'm a thoroughbred nigga, I don't fake and I don't hate Check my resume nigga, my record's impeccable Anywhere in the A nigga how TIP is highly respectable And the M-I-A nigga I'm tryna keep it professional 'Cause all this tongue rastling finna have me snap'n, I'm tell'n you From the bottom of the Duval, Cakalacky to New York And everybody show'n me love that's one to you all Yeah, to all my Florida niggaz, my Cakalacky niggaz, my LA niggaz [Chorus 2x] [Verse 2] Call me trouble man, stay'd in some trouble man Some niggaz still hate'n on shawty so, they some suckas man Got a couple fans that love to do nothing other than Lick, suck, show no 'spect, but still I love 'em man Dig it, lil' pimpin' got the mind and the muscle Stay down on his grind put the crown on the hustle Ay, I could show ya how to juggle anything and make it double Weed, blow, reel estate, liquor sto' wit' no trouble Young Cassius clay of my day Marvin gaye of my tyme Tryna stay alive, live'n how I say in my rhymes My cousin used to tell me, take this shyt a day at a tyme And told me Friday died, Sunday we a day in the ground I still smile 'cause somehow I know he see'n me now And so I'm doing all my shows just like he in the crowd Ay, throw ya lightas up for my cousin Toot, (Rest In Peace) Aaliyah, Left Eye and Jam Master Jay. [Chorus 2x] [Verse 3] Grand hustle man mo' hustles than hustle man But why the rubber band? it representin' the struggle man My folk gon' trap, until they come up wit' another plan Stack and crumble bread to get theyself off they momma land Gangstas who been servin, since you was do'n the run'n man Went down, did 10, back 'round and rich again That's why I'm young wit' the soul of a ole man I'm shell shocked, get shot slow ya roll man Still ryde around with the glock on patrol man I ain't robbing, I'm just lookin for that dro' man For ma niggaz slangin blow, pimpin' hoes Rollin vogues, 24's Let these other niggaz know [Chorus 2x] |
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