Artist: J. Stalin Album: D-Boy Blues 2010 (S) Song: D-Boy Blues 2010 Typed by: AZ Lyrics [Verse 1] No diploma, the corner was my high school Born on the curb something that the ghetto made Jump off the coast selling dope in the 7th grade Where I'm from you wasn't shit if you wasn't paid Watched the cocaine spread like AIDS Hustlers trying to survive the task force raids Playing with AKs trying to get out the projects Nigga get outta line they pop him like some latex Practice counting money like a nigga practice safe sex Ever since I was introduced to ice cream Always kept a choppa or connect in the triple-beam Pulling all nighters I never was into chasing dreams Hit a nigga up like the did my little cousin R[?] Captain of the cream cheese, grinding under the full moon These niggas snitching that's why they faker than cartoons I put them in the air like a fucking helium balloon [Chorus] The whips is new, the banger is used Keep stacking on them I don't catch a D-boy blues Keep dumping on they ass till the clips is gone Hold down my set nigga rep my home [X2] [Verse 2] Why the first of the month my favorite time of the year? Sitting on the fiend porch till the mail get here I hustle hard, you bitch niggas pathetic Mad cause I'm collecting ten-thousand in credit sale I'm just like Gregory I get it like my p[?] For years I wasn't happy growing up in the projects Nigga my money used to be little like an insect I turned into a Racist only cause I love this green Graduated from digitals no more triple-beams Those were the finer things that came from [?] You don't now my lifestyle then fuck you nigga sue me then You wanna fuck with the game we'll chop you with it Go against the flame motherfucker you will never win R.I.P Baby Chains, R.I.P Lil' Twin Ima keep it stacking till I see hopefully yall again Throw your asses back in as soon as you get out the pen [Chorus] [Verse 3] I've seen em go, selling grams to collecting cans I just pray to God that he help me be a better man Cause when it come to the game nigga I overstand Only thing on my mind be them rubber bands Learn how to cook grams, coke taste like candy yams Little nigga moving with a 30[?] Told the man he could front the whole brick If worse come to worse nigga I ain't bringing back shit This is for a broke bitch, class, and sensation I could show you how to stack money in a depression Live Wire Records ain't going through a recession Counting my blessings before I hit the street tonight Hoping I don't ever end up on a crack pipe Stuck in the game nigga still selling all white Cypress Village where I learned the whips soft And 10th Street niggas where I got it all off [Chorus]