Set It Off

Ayy, I go by the name of Mike Smiff (Yeah, yeah)
I'm from Miami, Florida (Uh-huh)
And I just signed to Slip-n-Slide Records (Yeah)
You know we puttin' on for Dade County (Already)
Broward County, Palm Beach County
Tampa, Tallahassee, Fort Pierce, Bear Glade, Clewiston, Bradenton
From the Panhandle to Key West
MIA, FLA (Orlando)
Yeah, the M.A.'s runnin' the compound now, nigga (Oh yeah)
Touche, I'm all in, let's get it, nigga

We gon' take it back to that gutter shit (Yeah)
That pain shit, that struggle shit
'Cause I ain't really fearin' all that other shit (No)
Young Savage, Slip-n-Slide, found me in the trenches
Robbin' and penny pinchin', dodgin' the penitentiary
Dirty clothes on my floor, dirty dishes in my kitchen
Marijuana in my lungs, brown liquor in my kidneys
The good die young, shit, that's what we were told
So we believed we can do anything but grow old
So we started livin' life like tomorrow ain't for sure
Every nigga I know was robbin' or sellin' dope
I was sittin' in my math class and I was dead broke
So I dropped out of school and started kickin' in doors
I was influenced by my surroundings
Man, my whole damn environment was
Full of nothin' but drugs and violence
Certified steppers, we was slingin' them hammers
We was really out here in it, takin' our freedom for granted
They started lockin' niggas up and we found out the hard way
Lookin' out the window, see them boys in the driveway
Kickin' in your door with arrest warrants and search warrants
With gloves on, lookin' for the cocaine and firearms
Nobody told us 'bout this part, dawg
They only told us 'bout the rims and the big cars, dawg
Only told us 'bout the money and the hoes, dawg
They ain't tell us 'bout goin' up the road, dawg
And they ain't tell us 'bout these cold-ass cells, nasty-ass food
Head count, you can't even sleep how you want to
Six beds with eighty-nine niggas in the same room
Make a nigga find out soon who really a goon
And they ain't tell us 'bout them courtrooms, you're shackled down
Lookin' all in the crowd, see your mama cryin'
Brother got his head down, sister 'bout to lose her mind
Your baby mama lookin' tired, your
Friends nowhere around, that real pain
Since they killed my nigga Raymond, I ain't been the same
So much anger built up, man, I'm still in pain
I'll slap a pussy nigga in his shit for anything
I'm talkin' anything
And I done been through a lot of hurt
And I done walked through a lot of rain, a lot of dirt
I told Touche, "This rap shit gotta work"
Put Slip-n-Slide on my back 'til my body hurt
And when I make it, tell JAY-Z I'm sorry to say
I'm puttin' racks to my head, puttin' twenty-eights on my seven-trey
Puttin' ice on my chain, puttin' a grill in my mouth
It ain't no disrespect, but that's just how it is in the South
We weren't in these streets riskin', gettin' killed or doin' bids
To get all this money just to live, 'cause certain did
I wanna shine like Master P them, T Double D them
Boosie, Wayne, and B.G. them, I wanted to be them
I finally got a chain to get my mama out the projects
And I ain't gotta use no AK's or no Pyrex
Watch a nigga grind and put it all on the line
And Slip-n-Slide finna shine like in 1999, yeah
It's 1999, yeah
Like it's 19, yeah
I say, watch a nigga grind and put it all on the line
And Slip-n-Slide finna shine like in 1999, yeah

Slip-n-Slide Records (Slip-n-Slide)
Mike Smiff (Mike Smiff)
305 M-I-A-Yayo (Yes, sir)
MIA, FLA (Believe that, woah)
Down South Dade County, Turnpike South Exit 6 (Uh-huh)
We finna set this bitch off (Yeah)