Intro: 

Check it on the one, you Com is gonna come (X3) 

And check it out, ha. 



Verse 1: 

My raps do laps around tracks and adapt 

To any enviroment, I'm the comma comma Chamelion 

I use to pop the willy on my blue and gray sting ray 

It had maxed, I was with bitches that had coochie 

Bassum wasn't rollin' Starters, looking harder than niggas 

Hoes wore clothes, that exposed their figures 

Ain't 7 steps in the jam, next the police come 

Fights, there would be one, numbers I would get at least one 

We come to the get together with whatever 

You wouldn't know how deep it was, we all did shit together 

Eat up all your vittles, drink your brew and then step to 

The next cue, let's do it again y'all 

That was when "mad" was "tall" and "phat" was "cold"

The days of Old Chicago and Fun Town and shorties we run round 

Play strike outs till sun down, but the shit ain't as fun now 

And the city is all run down, we troop down to Jew Town 

Talking cat down on some gear, have enough for a Polish incom fair 

I stare, at what use to be Bubbles and think about who use to cop our 

liquior 

(Who?) Our neighborhood father figure 

Hook: 

I'm out with my crew, ain't nuthin' to do but ah, 

"Niggas be rollin'" - Ol' Dirty Bastard from Protect Ya Neck 

Ain't nowhere to go, so I hook up with a hoe while I 

"Niggas be rollin'" 

Gotta make a stop take a leak and get some chops cause um 

"Niggas be rollin'" 

We gonna hit the streets for some brew and some eats cause um 

"Niggas be rollin'" 

Verse 2: 



I got more rhymes then the Manor got folks had style 

Since I went to McDowl, wearin' boats 

And penny loafers know I had the nickel in mines 

We use to hoop in my yard but now I dribble the rhyme 

It's like rain drops couldn't make our game stop 

Skeeter will hit from the same spot 

Torla tore my shit down, get down, put your body in motion 

Only the strong survive, but on the 6 or the 5 

Live as hot as sex use to be at the Racket 

Wrong club with music by Andre Hatchet 

Or either Beat Box Ferris at them country club parties 

Would be hot as hell and house stud would get "Find a body!" 

Sawyers I would go there, hip hop clubs were so rare 

I like the music anyways and it was always hoes there 

Was said to have the best chicks but mostly High Park and V hoes 

Is who I mess with, the best shit was troopin' to the loop 

With your positions held class crooked ass but still go the division 

(I remember that) Over Yamela's crib while his old girl was at work 

Bust a smoothie on the spread, but sill have some on your shirt 



Hook

 

Verse 3: 

I tuned into BMX and taped Farly on the tonemaster 

I took the 6 instead of the 28 to get home faster 

Then HBK was the only station that would fuck with rap 

You was on the shore by yourself cats would say, "Up your act." 

What you could make of it, you was a gump they was takin' shit 

Either fight or break for it, we go to the lake and get full 

My drink there was Boons and Red Bull 

I remember swimming in Avalon, and being in a pool 

I thought I was cool, with my "members only" and a bold fade 

Wall to wall greens to get the sport gray and palmade 

And soft breasts, as we got older we would star crush and bang fags 

Go to Marshall's and change tags, I snagged nuff niggas 

And games are off the wall, in softball, Piggy one I would call 

When I first got my three way callin', I caught Marsh tryin' to lie 

Home of the original gangbangers, and ain't nobody shot 



Hook