i was fifteen going on sixteen
my only dream to be out of that city
flash back to those memories
flickin ash on that fendi
sending drinks to my enemies
crackin smiles for all those that envy
know you still you're mommas son
wind up on the wrong track
my mother staying up late night
her fingers crossed that i'm safe
last time we talked i screamed
my kids are nothing like me
i put my parents through hell and back
and still somehow they love me
i know some people don't get that
scars stuffed to the rim with drugs
looking out the cut like who is that
pulling up in that all black
hearse so you know it's me
it's that young skinny pimp
know you still you're mommas son
wind up on the wrong track