Midnight Oil (feat. Larry June & Jay Worthy)

All you do is just make up your mind

But you gotta do something

The key to life is your attitude

Make sure you're doin' what you wanna do

Your goals can unfold right before your eyes

But you gotta have some priorities and all that

Bought houses off the wrist (ah)

Half a kick for the fit (uh)

Barricades on the block (numbers)

'Nother nigga got- (church)

'Nother nigga got ten (uh)

Squeezin' 'til the Glock- (shh, good job)

Squeezin' 'til the Glock jam (jam)

Niggas know I'm top tier (ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)

Fastin' in the mornin' (man)

I'm casual with my garments (casual)

South of France, smokin' (smokin')

But hold on, I got more shit (damn)

Hold on, I got motion (yeah)

Hold on, I don't know him

Chill out with that bro shit (this might be the greatest escape, nigga, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, damn)

Got my feet wet when I was 17 (shit)

First time cruisin' down the blade was like a movie scene (oh)

We was rockin' Nike tech suits in 2013 (ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)

20-thousand hangin' out my pocket, hooker clockin' cheese (damn, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)

Used to drive to Costa Mesa twice a month, dodge the steam (twice, yeah)

Bust a couple plays (man), after that, head to SD (numbers)

Hotel circle hot as fuck (check), it's time to switch speeds

Two 5.0's back-to-back (damn), it was two P's, what's happenin'?

Two hits of the numb-numb juice, still couldn't knock me off the caboose (alright, soowoo)

Don't get it fucked up, boo (nah)

No ho, we don't love you

Like Pepé Le Pew, three riders in ski mask

Lookin' like TRU, no duck, duck, goose

Just dump, dump, shoot (doot-doot-doot)

Fuck with the fuck 'round too, homie, this four deep deuce (Westside)

P Worthy, the reputable

Turn opps into vegetables (remind you)

That's just how the section rolls

The homies turn two in fours (fours in twos, eights in nines)

Payin' those 'round here ain't enough, we wanna know what set you from

Et cetera, et cetera

I do it way better, blood (come on)

Don't talk, better beep this ho, I was never the one (not yet)

Only kept that bitch around for the funds, it was never for fun (pimpin')

All you get is some hand-me-down Uggs

Shout outs to Yambo, damn, I miss my son (Wavy Bone)

Church, like I'm the heavenly one (Heavenly one)

Countin' hundreds in a two piece with a top hat like I'm Reverend Run

Chasin' the paper like it was runnin' from me

I'm in the spot countin' hundreds until my thumbs is bloody

That's the only way for me to sit up comfortable like Dutch & Bumpy

I clutch a pump, dump it, and jump a country

Might be in London speakin' bluntly

One sniff of the pure got your bitch's nerves all twitchy and jumpy (man, cool out, cool out)

Comin' down the block like a slinky dink

Whisky on the rock with the pinky ring

Bucket hat with the wrinkled brim

I'm in the water where it's sink or swim

Doin' math on the abacus

Already made the nickel, I'm thinkin' tin

Wavin' flags like a matador

Already got the juice on, drinkin' gin (gin straight)

I'm a product of the '70s (yeah)

The Gottis and the Jenevis

We left bodies buried in the desert, paid off crooked cops and deputies

Without even carryin' a weapon, cut a tongue out for talkin' recklessly (what you say?)

On the scale, I'm too various to measure, all my soldiers, they walk in step with me (walk)

From the trenches to the park benches

No one can escape what is getting ready to come upon us

Somebody will have to say something to have some credibility

And cornin' those who are cornable

Everybody won't make it in