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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Meek Mill
Lead Vocals
Cardiak
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Cardiak
Songwriter
Robert Rihmeek Williams
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Cardiak
Producer
Ricky Rozay
Executive Producer
Justin Smith
Mastering Engineer
Fabian Marasciullo
Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
I remember nights I used to sell rock,
posted on the corner like a mailbox
First class ticket to a cell block,
just to get some Polo & some shell tops
Cold world and they say hell's hot
But it ain't hotter than that choppa when them shells drop
Man I seen niggas play that block
get they bell rocked
Cops cleared the scene and I was back by twelve o'clock
Tryna' get it, Dickie on and my fitted
Gun in my draws
ducking the law
Money, cars and clothes, I wanted em' all nigga
I never was good at hoopin, I wanted to ball nigga
Cause the OG's sold keys and I had no cheese
Copper's lock me, beat me down like I was cochise
Old fiends coppin' work through they're old dreams
They got shattered, it ain't matter cause we thirst cream
Niggas serving niggas moms just to make a flip
Homies murder other homies just to make a brick
Most my niggas done got busted tryna' take a hit
The feds was right there, we was serving, they was taking flicks
This how it goes down in the jungle
Where niggas learn to shoot before they could rumble
Cops rushing, they gon' kick in the front door
And if they chase you better hope you don't stumble
I wanted Polo with some shell tops
I just wanted Polo and some shell tops
And I was out there tryna' sell rocks
Cause I wanted Polo and some shell tops
I done seen close neighbors lose hope
Fall victim to the streets and start to use dope
I use to load my gun before I went to school first
It's crazy niggas wanna kill me,
We was cool first
And when it comes to friends
you can't let 'em to close
That's why they call 'em close friends,
you turn your back they move first
And I just bought a new ghost,
and a crib out on that new coast
And it all started from a dolla
Running from the law, scuffing up my Prada's
Crack all in my draws, tryna' make a profit
All I wanted was some shells and some Polo for my closet, Awhhh
Drug money
turn to blood money
I only roll with niggas that'll take a slug for me
No matter what it is, I'mma pay that bail money
To get my niggas right,
My niggas for life!
This how it goes down in the jungle
Where niggas learn to shoot before they could rumble
Cops rushing, they gon' kick in the front door
And if they chase you better hope you don't stumble
I wanted Polo with some shell tops
I just wanted Polo and some shell tops
And I was out there tryna' sell rocks
Cause I wanted Polo and some shell tops
Writer(s): Carl E. Mccormick, Robert Rihmeek Williams
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