(Verse 1)
Back to the crib
Man this just how live
Home of the hustlers
Bout to bust a lick
Yeah that's right take what's rightfully mine
Steal the spotlight now watch me let it shine
Man I kill this shit and I ain't even in my prime yeah
You can still find me in the heart of Alpine yeah
Yeah this the flow that'll make em fall back in line yeah
You know what it is it's ya boy Lil Brian uh
The way I see it it's get rich or die trying uh
No metaphor yeah paying the price of crime
Flipping these God given words
Cause the power of Christ divine
But lemme stop cause I ain't no preacher
I'm a poet of modern times
All of you fellas better just keep up
Cause you might just fall behind
Never been afraid to just speak up
And spit this uzi in my mind
I'm influenced by all my people yeah Broward boy till die
Yeah that's Broward boy for life
But still shout out 305 hey

(Verse 2 - Tripp)
Fuck these red wing boots I need some new shoes
I've been working all my life I'm tryna make some heavy moves
I want a Bentley coupe and I'm only 22
I got a lot of shit to prove I be jumping through some hoops
Started from the bottom now I'm headed to the roof
Chef curry with the wrist only swish when I shoot
I lie, cheat, and steal but you ain't got shit to prove
If you ain't one of us put y'all boys on mute
Laughing at your problems
N***a I ain't bothered
All about the guala
All about the dollars
Gotta get it longer
Get that shot for all of us
Got that gas I spark it up
My weed stay strong as fuck
Got a special party cup
And I pour Bacardi up
Speakers bumping hard as fuck
Turn the fucking volume up
Women everywhere damn
Wise and so hard to love yeah