Verse of The Day...

213 South cross the Baybridge wit it
Bring the triangle, then mail, come and get it
The time in the kitchen, I dare not mention
When my cell phone echo, I swear they listenin
'89 was my beginnin y'all
Young snot-nosed, Cash Yams in a tennis ball
Cops swore we was playin catch, NO
We was at a stretch, no shorts, beg till you outta breath
I ducked the feds, they seein my weight grow
Streets love Malice for his comeback gracial
If they got popped, we made sure they made bail
Cuz if not, we be scared they gon tell
Patty cake, that's me, bake the pies
Pie wrecked, mixed that, scrape the sides
Grindin', glock 9 in a line in
Make God strike a nigga dead if he lyin