| Now, I never been a crook |
| Grew up in the hood off the Av. Meadowbrook |
| Had always been shook when it came to the gun play |
| Tried to stay up out the way until one day |
| The homie showed up on the porch |
| Reached in his pants, in his hands had a torch |
| The heater, the burner, the chop — let me stop |
| A taped up Chrome .38, not a Glock |
| Put his finger on the trigger, put it to my head and pulled it |
| I flinched, nothing happened cause he didn’t have no bullets |
| I punched him in the chest, I said «you play too much» |
| It was the homie Killer Robbie, didn’t say too much |
| He said he had to put me on to this lick we could hit |
| Do it real quick and we can split with a grip |
| Usually, he would’ve never fucking brought this to me |
| He knew I was a square but he knew I needed money |
| I’d been saving for these Tech 1200's and this new mark mixer that he knew I |
| really wanted |
| Confronted with this opportunity, what to do? |
| All I needed was a couple more hundreds, I was cool |
| So it’s off to the strip well-known as Melrose |
| Every single bone in my body saying «hell no» |
| We mobbing on foot, no whip |
| When we got to Beverly I was shook as shit |
| Now I’m thinking, «maybe I should turn back |
| I could work with my moms at the cleaners, earn that» |
| Now I’m in the alley, standing with a hoodie on |
| Rob saying I should feel lucky that he put me on |
| Name ain’t Robber but we all call him Rob |
| Cause he rob motherfuckers like a full time job |
| So I probably wasn’t as nervous as I should’ve been |
| Walked to the door of the store and he pushed me in |
| Grin on his face, like he was at ease |
| Pointed a gun at the clerk, told him get down on his knees |
| Didn’t see him as he quickly went and grabbed the twelve gauge |
| 'Till he turned around and jammed it into my motherfucking face |
| Rob pulled the trigger and the gun went click |
| Jig is up, now we sitting there holding our dicks |
| Young, dumb, full of cum and ready to run |
| For my life but he said «hold tight 'till the cops come» |
| Fuck outta here, made a right doing light speed |
| Hid behind a dumpster in the alley, was a tight squeeze |
| Heard the cops say «freeze» and heard some shots |
| Then I thought about Rob and I thought «probably not» |
| I hid in the alley for like four more hours |
| When I finally walked home, I was feeling like a coward |
| Took a shower, passed out, face covered in tears |
| It was so surreal, everything felt weird |
| If not for God’s grace, I’d be a dead motherfucker |
| Woke up the next morning, went to work with my mother |
| Earned enough for my turntable set that summer |
| And I put Rob on my first mixtape cover |
| Ah! |