The first single off of Fiction’s Please Don’t Sue Me mixtape, this track tells the story of Fiction’s introduction and experience in the trap. This one is a remix of Drake’s Pound Cake.Yup, yup, yup, yup

Yup, yup, yup, yup

You know what it is, bitch!

It's Fiction, baby

[Verse 1]

At fourteen I had my first job, self employed

Actually I just did it at first to help my boy

But I was lured and attracted by a selfish noise

That convinced me to find a way to fill my shelf with toys

So one day my boy said he's dropping the game

Hitting the exit ramp so I hopped in his lane

Opportunity knocked so I opened the door

I was hoping the whore was holding the potion for poor

So I started with a ten, hustled to an eighth

To a quad, to a half, to a zone, moving weight

A kid with paper now, four bills in my tin case

Plus seven grams in the can bitch I been straight

Alexander and Gatsby, so don't ask me

Nothing, pumpkin, only concerned with where the cash be

Cause this shit is new to me and this shit treats me beautifully

Little did i know this shit would make a fucking fool of me, but

[Chorus]

It's back to the trap we go

Never relax for the tax free dough

Gotta get my cheddar up so I can see the better stuff

A hustler's gotta hustle cause I'm past being broke

I'm past being broke

Hustler's gotta hustle cause I'm past being broke

Said I'm past being broke

Hustler's gotta hustle, Hustler's gotta hustle

[Verse 2]

That money always looked so nice

Now I understand why he took your life

Don't get me wrong I ain't cook no white

But I sold enough grass to get booked tonight

But the risk is worth it man, feels like the perfect plan

For survival but rivals always lurking, man

Whoop whoop, on the corner is the blue crew

These government hookers getting paid to screw you

So it's fuck all you hoes like Biggie said

I'm moving purp to make green so I can paint the city red

That's why I ain't got no time for hillbilly Zeds

DT's, patrols, man fuck all of you silly feds

I can't fuck with you pigs, I feel Islamic

Cause y'all treat me demonic, and I'm just flipping chronic

But I got bills to pay and a mouth to feed

Broke and hungry, two things I ain't bout to be!

[Chorus]

So, it's back to the trap we go

Never relax for the tax free dough

Gotta get my cheddar up so i can see the better stuff

A hustler's gotta hustle cause I'm past being broke

I'm past being broke

Hustler's gotta hustle cause I'm past being broke

Said I'm past being broke

Hustler's gotta hustle, Hustler's gotta hustle

[Bridge]

So it's back to the trap we go, we go

Gotta wrap up these o's, wrap wrap, these o's

Back to the trap we go, back back, we go

Gotta wrap up these o's, wrap wrap, these o's

[Verse 3]

Working fast food got me going cashews

So don't be shocked if it seems that I'm pissed at you

Cause while I'm making slave wages serving quarter pounders

I should be in the trap house serving quarter pounders

You say it's wrong I'm just trying to provide for my plate

So at the end of the day I stay dividing my weight

You wanna judge me? I'll take pride in my hate

'Cause I was never handed shit so now I'm finding my way

My mom ain't got a home so when I get on my Ton-

Y Montana, on my grandma, that's where all my money going

I just sold a zone now I need to a cop another

Life of a don, she's a bitch, but I love her

Look at me, glamorizing survival

Knowing I only do what I do, because I'm liable

Taking matters in my own hands to stay alive

'Cause I can't survive on $8.25!

[Chorus]

It's back to the trap we go

Never relax for the tax free dough

Gotta get my cheddar up so i can see the better stuff

A hustler's gotta hustle cause I'm past being broke