Pressure

The story of a baller who ain't have many friends

And the way this song begins is the way that it ends

Pressure

I keep two dollars in my pocket, reminding me of my past

There was times I had to stretch, hoping those two dollars last

Hard times you're gonna catch, now sit down for this class

This the school of hard knocks, communicating through glass

Applying pressure in the inner city, struggling still

Where everyone is struggling like you, so that struggle is real

This where your heroes is banging sets or they some players that deal