Lyrics

Mans & Nem

West coast let me turn you up, East Coast let me turn you up, Down South let me turn you up, Midwest let me turn you up.
This for my mans and nem, chilling on the block with the grams and brims; catch em in some Jordan’s, Chuck T’s, or Timbs, always shine bright we don’t like to dem.
This for my mans and nem, so imma rip it for my mans and nem.
This for my mans and nem, always shine bright we don’t like to dem.

I’m from the gutter, you can thank my mother; sister had to play that role little brother stuttered.
I communicate his pain, we were born mudders. From the dirt see the trash cluttered.
Check my past, you can see why I’m brash; wasn’t always on point had to get on my Nash.
Even Steve wouldn’t believe that I ran with the thieves, blowing on leaves, and still earned my college degrees how selfish of me.
But let me take you back to the streets, where it all started without nothing to eats; the roaches and the rats used to crawl on my sheets.
And now I ball hard had to tie up my cleats; Jermz selling bars they admire my speech, flow sweet as a peach, aint from Georgia, chucks on my feet.
I’m from Cali, where we rally in front of rally’s with burgers and burners in caddies while homies is twisting up fatties. (I’m from the bottom bro)

I guess its time to get my cheddar cheese, I got that drive better grab your keys; born cold like I’m Lebanese; ask my bro I’m a pro when it comes to these B-A-R-Z
I’m in a league of my own, shout out Notre Dame keep the gold on my dome. This is Star Wars swear that Yoda’s my clone.
My past is dark vador such a lucrative zone.
Flow sweeter than an apple I resemble the phone; I grew up on a block where they shovel the stones; got a couple cousins locked up, a couple that’s gone.
I guess that’s called life, board games and dice; born and raised in Blythe black beans and rice. I grew up on tacos, taught to go get the guopo.
Focused on my cheddar and chips let’s make some nachos; bro my flow so wet so I need some poncho.

You know the vibes, this how we rides