(feat. Rell)

Ch

Down in my area, chk a chk uh.. real %#@! ^!$$% uh
It's the ROC
Yeah... Free... yea uh feel me.. Pa pause

Yo.. yo

[Verse 1: Freeway]

I was born in west but migrated to north
Remember cold nights grindin' AK and a toss
Four door for the stick up boys if they want war

Fiends comin' all night all I heard was four more
Rocks in the cap
When it was jumpin' me and Rell hit dances

You could pick me out the crowd rockin' the cap
But things change
Cause my man Rell fightin' a body

On state row where it's so cold
Rockin' his blues
I roll with the ROC

Still trynna rock at a show
%#@! aint like 98' ^!$$%z pockets is low
Which way do I go?

Indictments blew over
Man whipped a few shoulders
Shovel nick boulders gettin' it slow

Me, I'm in the studio switchin' the flow
Changin' the styles
My son and daughter need pampers

Cause they just %#@!tin' them up
And changin' the size
My man Just quipped the Jags

See the change in his eyes

[Chorus: Freeway x2]; followed by [Rell]

And I eat, sleep, buy, sell - drugs
Cause I'm just another victim of the ghetto
When I rob, steal, lie to get money, bust slugs (shots)

Cause I'm just another product of the ghetto

[Rell] This is how it goes down in these ghetto streets

[Rell] This is how it goes down in my neighborhood
[Rell] This is how it goes down in these ghetto streets
[Rell] This is how it goes down in my area


[Verse 2: Freeway]
My man blingin' platinum wheel, platinum gat

Took a trip down south came back with platinum caps
I'm still trynna write platinum raps
But made a slight change from verse one

Started jugglin' packs
It's like I'm travelin' backwards
Rewindin' the time

Putting four on nine
Must be outta my mind
(uh) nine, get it outta my palm

Just grab four and a half get it outta my trunk
Free we need you at the studio
Out to lunch - out on the block

These ^!$$%z just pulled out on my man
And the only rock I worry bout is right on my face
We bout to go shake, rattle his block (shots) with no plans

Shots fired, cops came
But I'm a grown man
I stick around till my clip is empty

Cops threw me on the ground
When my clip got empty (shots)
Now bars is all I see a thug is all I'll ever be


[Chorus]


[Verse 3: Freeway]
I got, 11 in I was facin' a dub, got nine left
My click show love they write back

My cousin M's son, little Di he's so grown
Said he hold chrome, run blocks, and write raps
Wrote him right back
Told him I control the bones
Try to play the phone

We could rhyme and hold wax
Leave that drug %#@! alone
Don't forget you grown
It'll put you places where your mind can't get you back from
Little ^!$$% aint write me back since

Still supply the jail
L.Pridgon you got mail
It's probably all the letters you wrote him
What you mean?
All the $#&@ed up %#@! you told him

This %#@! from my cousin Emily I'm quotin' (uh huh)
Right out her letter
Little Di, got popped in the head trynna steal a ^!$$% leather
That's what the cops said but the streets could tell you better


[Chorus]