Lyrics

[Intro: D Smoke] Ashes to ashes, dust to dust Quincey, you better tell these niggas what it's like [Chorus: Quincey White] I stay ten toes down Got a nine full of rounds Roll an eighth of the loud I'm on the 7, bitch On the 7, bitch I stay ten toes down Got a nine full of rounds Roll an eighth of the loud I'm on the 7, bitch On the 7, bitch [Verse 1: Quincey White] Yeah, uh When y'all was learning your ABCs, I was learning sign language On how to throw up the park and recognize what other sides claiming No one, two, trees, just .223s, rival gang sprayin' 'til they all layin' with eyes dilated No one gon' hold your hand and cross these streets Danger, who that nigga and that MC? Pass thе clip We finna play tag, you it Blast a fifth Play on my corner, coroner bags will zip I knеw this dude from school name Rayvon, he was a fool Super Blood, would't use a crayon if it was blue He rocked Levi's with Calvin Klein shirt, whatever shoes Had red strings, I mean, he was truly a Damu Our white Black history teacher played us rude So Rayvon said he ain't from Africa, he from Piru My whole family tree is with it too Like a family full of doctors and lawyers, i follow suit [Chorus: Quincey White] I stay ten toes down Got a nine full of rounds Roll an eighth of the loud I'm on the 7, bitch On the 7, bitch I stay ten toes down Got a nine full of rounds Roll an eighth of the loud I'm on the 7, bitch On the 7, bitch [Verse 2: Quincey White] Listen I'm on Pacific Standard Time Where niggas grip pistols to feel a rush, to hear whistles and stand in line Acting off impulses and instinct with no end in mind Jackin' off only option when shackled and spendin' time inside I'm tired of that tough dumb shit Bullets severed your spine, talkin' 'but you used to run shit Got a heater on me, still, I hate that gun shit I'd rather square up, catch fair ones, to me, that's fun shit But niggas out here low vibration, no appreciation for life Shit, I might exterminate you, nigga (Nigga) If I'm high key honest, I turn gangsters into scholars, every time they hear this Terminator I worked white collar, no crime Blue collar, no gang lines Real gang ties Cousins from the beats and they blue veins live Still the 7 tatted on me, wonder why? Go to Inglewood [Chorus: Quincey White] I stay ten toes down Got a nine full of rounds Roll an eighth of the loud I'm on the 7, bitch On the 7, bitch I stay ten toes down Got a nine full of rounds Roll an eighth of the loud I'm on the 7, bitch On the 7, bitch [Verse 3: D Smoke] How you gon' hate on God's son? Man, that's blasphemy I be on go like someone after me I'm from where an average day catastrophe Not used to triumph, just the trials and the tragedy Uh, soldiers in Iraq stressed from the post trauma Growin' up in the set, I— mmm, when I see Impalas Chevy creeped on 'em first time I seen a homi' Said I ain't seen nothin', but in my dreams, it still haunt me That was on my sixteenth birthday, ayy My sweet sixteen came with gunplay Learned how to drive in a drive-by, road rage Make 'em turn, kiss the Glock, that was first base, mwah Never took the SATs My circle bubblin' came from ese's kis Graduated to the bigs once I hit eighteen No Penn State, judge gave me full ride to the state pen' [Chorus: Quincey White] I stay ten toes down Got a nine full of rounds Roll an eighth of the loud I'm on the 7, bitch On the 7, bitch I stay ten toes down Got a nine full of rounds Roll an eighth of the loud I'm on the 7, bitch On the 7, bitch