Chicago Heights Feat. The Musalini

The game done lost its juice and I'm the recouping sanity
Pain got the industry noosed
As a youth, in a home that was group, I was the proof
Triple fat goose now I'm worldwide posted with moose
This is not a facade, eleven hundred a bar
I'm in the car with cigars, the car covered garage
A nigga touching the stars

Fuck that, I'm Stretch Armstrong still
I'm always amongst niggas with skill
I work like I took a factory pill
I wanna catch you lacking for real
In New York looking for practical cribs
Hungry as hell, stomach touching my ribs
I want the soul food
Victor got the moves so I'm not gon' even hold you
High toxic scold you, the life is treacherous

Still seek wins while the others have leverage

Cook so I give the pot extra whipping
I'm too fly to even text a chick, pimping

Twisted cereal, by the water with the spitters
The players know my steez
My bitch in chinchillas, she ain't tryna feel the breeze
Chicago to the Heights, that's a cargo load of white
My Ewings off white with the gum bottoms

We was never starving, had the dinner table mobbing

Having plates of the salmon
Put you on my album, that's gon' cost a couple thousands
You forty in the lobby, you should get another hobby
Break bread with the family, crash whips with my colleagues
Never went to college, a student of the game

Whips with low mileage, we ain't hopping on the train
My bitch 'bout a profit, she ain't fucking with no lames
Me and Spencer on the plane, smelling like a P of Jane
Got it through TSA, nothing but a G thing
Made it to the city, she waiting in the G-string
Minus all the mood swings, you know how I do things