Out Of Towner [Produced by Terrace Martin]

Yeah blood, lets take these niggas back to 96,
11th grade when a nigga was walking the Compton High School.
Cincinnati Red fitted snug on my motherf**king forehead.
Nike backpack on, you know like Durant be wearing.
Nike straps tighter than a virgin pussy Illmatic in the Walkman, what?
Sitting on the subway they looking like 'who is that? '
The boy gutter all hood New York sewer rat
You can never mace me, where Cuda at?
They love me out in Harlem like a ten dollar buddha sack
I spit that Ill Street Blues, yeah Kool G Rap
But my style is big , where the Coogis at?
I said my style is Big now light a L
As I skip to the next track on Supreme Clientele
Ghost to Manhattan, seat reclined in the Aston
Time for glasses cause NY is into fashion
Madison. Square. Garden. Feeling like Spike Lees squares, Jordans
You squares aint important
Fresh to death my gears in a coffin
Why that nigga coughin?
Blowing that sour diesel I aint be here that often
Riding on the A train, listening to Ghostface
Im just ridin on the A train, listenin to Ghostface
Riding on the A train, listening to Ghostface
Im just riding on the A train, listening to Ghostface
Pull up in that Derrick Rose hop out number nines or elevens
You niggas is copycats, my style is patent leather
South side of the Chi nigga I aint packing never
I aint shy of the Chi, Jay Cutler in cold weather
And all I do is win, 72 and 10
Ball like Mike, Scottie, Dennis Rodman and them
7-4 Chevelle, niggas riding in them
Killers from Cabrini-Green I was riding with them
Pelle jackets niggas out here robbing in them
And even getting coat-jacked aint Common to him
Keep thinking you Larry Hoover that linell have you shook
Thats that Crack Music nigga forgot I was on the hook
G.D.s, Vice Lords, Four Corner Hustlers
Latin Kings, MCs, all em will f** k with us
Blowing trees like the windy city
Nigga I blow trees in the Windy City
Riding on the L train, listening to Kanye
Im just riding on the L train, listening to Kanye
Im just riding in on the L train, listening to Kanye
Said Im riding on the L train, listening to Kanye

I be in Lil Haiti
First forty eighty
Aint nothing bout to go down nigga my fams Zoe Pound
And ever since they locked my nigga Zo down
Everything slow down, but my nigga Ross is on
The homie Khaled put the Bosss on
We blowing orange like the Dolphins home
And we dont floss the chrome
We turn that Wildcat offense on
That New Era fly off ya dome
Im about to take my talents to South Beach
I dont even go to the games, but got Heat
Aint no Trickin Daddy, I take a bitch to get some Cuban food
Have a couple mojitos then f**k her like a Cuban do
Riding down Collins in the newest coup
Flo-Rida on the place they think Im Uncle Luke
Nigga Tony Montana, who the f**k is you?
Im the all-red side of the Rubiks Cube
Riding in the fast lane, listening to Rozay
I'm just ridin in the fast lane, listening to Rozay

Riding in the fast lane, listening to Rozay
Im just riding in the fast lane, listening to Rozay