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• Artiste: Kota the Friend
• Titre: Clinton Hill
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We had dreams of stackin' up hella cheese And smokin' the best dope and rockin' designer jeans And pullin' up in a Benz and steppin' out with the steez Elevatin' to somethin' they said I would never be It's hard not to gloat like "I told you, bitch," in person I be chill and humble, I really feel like you could smoke a dick But now I realize the workings of a small mind Never was I limited to shit that I see A lotta kids in Clinton Hill right now living through me They see me in the street, take a pic' and then peace My words be the weapon how I stick to my guns I try to tell my young niggas it's a figure of speech I pull up at the shop now, Lil' Ave hot now Folks talk about a nigga with a sense of pride now Used to be the lil' homie walkin' with his eyes down CD playin' Biggie and 'Pac, Jigga and Nas loud Always appreciated the sunny days Knowing that I had to be grounded before the money came Knowing that I won't always have to deal with the hunger pains And if I end up floppin', I'm finna get it another way Myrtle Ave, doli with the camera out Grindin' and recordin' raps, beggin' y'all to hear me out Couple people look and laugh but can't even get near me now I'm holdin' generational money inside my family house