Yea, I know what I said… 

Before I got out? I had a blueprint and all these goals in my head to bake up loaves of the bread without hitting the trap long nights to get the pack gone, or putting the mask on and loading the lead; 

Yea, I know what I said… 

But I saw the low road and chose it instead; man, cut me some slack; my stomach’s touching my back and I’m surrounded by those getting fed; 

Yea, I know what I said… 

But knowing me? I’m bound to slip because I found a cliff, drove to the ledge, then leaped over the edge; because, who am I kidding? 

I’ve been pursuing this vision; but it’s true, my addiction to loot got me trippin; making stupid decisions, about to ruin the mission that I drew up in prison; 

Yea, I know what I said… 

But big homie just came through with a pigeon; and my crew’s in the kitchen, but it’s not food that we’re whippin’, nah… 

Because I want the coupe with the missing top and the shoes that’ll glisten, and when I come through? All the women will hear me booming my system and choose up; 

Yea, I know what I said… 

But the high road is too tough; plus, I get love when I hit the strip club because I like to throw a few bucks to show I’m the man; and I realize I’m blowing the plan that I wrote in advance, but this dough that I hold in my hands got me so in a trance that I might just OD; 

Yea, I know what I said…

Reading Rashad (BLOG)