One Ounce

001/365

Ghetto brick city corners and weed inhale street success

Money stacks don’t matter when in new Jordan’s

Wifey’s birthday. Can’t forget to turn up

Mollies, like real adults

Get paid. Five baby daddies

Drive up to welfare in a shiny Benz

At work all day. The mean streets

The crew runs too deep for fear

“We’re men,” we say

Go hard for the homies. Stay hard for the homies. But no homo

Own name tattoo across chest. Thug credentials

Or Identification In-Case-Of-Shit

Long white Ts, like a ghost.

Skinny jeans, like a 16 year old girl

High all day. Bragging rights?

True gangsta life