Ice Box Part 2

[Verse 1] South Jamaica, hungry my nigga, don't be the lunch I be on P's & Q's, purple and blues, breathin blunts Funny thing the dough came, never thought about leavin once There's a few chosen, we were brought up to be the bunch You been in it a couple years I spent a decade paid I shine all year, your neck on shade, motherfucker I'm Gettin to it double time, young fly bastard acid #9 Keep 'em close, homies be the one that slime I'm outta here, on my way to the moon Blendin in with the stars, put your cameras on zoom Who the man that's caught a slug, he'll be an animal soon His daddy on base, his momma got her hand on the spoon They ain't fuckin with the school, to them the dealers look cool Little do they know in ten years, they'd be in jail or entombed The youth follow it through, he bangin red or bang blue He give a fuck about dem, they give a fuck about you [Hook] I got my ears to the street, one eye open when I sleep Car full of heat in case a nigga try to creep Got a broad so sweet when she set a nigga up Knock your sole off your feet, money never get enough No trust, we don't trust a damn thing Ice water running through my vein, I'm so cold Watch me while I do my damn thing Got a neck full of gold and I'm in the get-the-dough mode [Verse 2] Way too much drama going on to be calm Get out the way or be harmed, cause the neighborhood Vietnam I got it now, haters praying to see it gone Teflon on my chest wrong player, you be the pawn Takes me out the bullshit, run your lip and get beat upon I'm full speed in that beamer and you want my freedom gone Ridin where the riders died, young black and qualified Fame gets them to suck you, makin it makes 'em swallow right I'm the survival type, cool as the champion on title night And VVS bait makin the models bite Bright as the morning all time of night Red and green striped Impala white, bricks to Bahama light Homi every time I write, flow 900 degrees farenheit Fly as a fuck, flyin to paradise Grab a camera, film my flick, so you can have it twice Haters still poppin shit, look [Hook] [Verse 3] Work wonders with words, ain't no telling why I took 'em Bet these stupid niggas can't read - easier to book 'em Splattered walls, do 'em like graffiti when I cook 'em Stink sound, probably while my BDS is wolfin' Hood favorite, probably had my CD when they took 'em And I'm so high, which makes it easier to overlook 'em South Jamaica hoodlum in that big boy, the good one You shook son, wouldn't be here if you could come Maybe I'm misunderstood hon, cause it's obvious I'm judged And the hate's the new love, smell up the lobby with the drugs You broke you need game, and the Ferrari you get bugged You done ran your run into the ground, it's time that you get snubbed Still no love