Hood Precision

Clean and compact, that's how I roll,
In the chaos, I still find control.

Born in the hood, where the streets don't sleep,
Still, I keep my world tight, my order deep.
They see the grind, the heat, the stacks,
But don't see the discipline holding me back.
Every move I make's a calculated track,
Gangsta life, but I'm clean, neat, compact.

Caught between the streets and peace,
Where chaos fades, I find release.

Gangsta grind, but I keep it tight,
Clean and compact, feels so right.
Hustle hard, but I stay on track,
Organized life, no turning back.

Chains on my neck, but my closet's clean,
Every shelf aligned, my space pristine.
Hood rules sharp, but my focus intact,
I thrive in order—neat, compact.
They think the streets gotta live in a mess,
But I rise above; I'm built for success.

In chaos, I still find my calm,
Straight lines keep me strong.

Gangsta grind, but I keep it tight,
(Yeah!) Clean and compact, it's my light.
Hustle hard, but I stay on track,
Organized life, no turning back.

It's a fight inside, two worlds collide,
The streets bring chaos, but calm's my guide.
In a room where the lines are straight,
I find my strength, I shape my fate.

They don't see the balance I maintain,
A gangsta edge, but my vibe is plain.
I built this life on a clear contract,
To live my world all neat and compact.

Pick a side? Nah, I'm both combined,
Gangsta grind with an ordered mind.
From the block to the top, my moves precise,
Every plan laid out, no rollin' dice.
Hustle sharp, every step exact,
Organized focus, neat and compact.
They don't get how I balance the grind,
But this life reflects the calm in my mind.

Gangsta grind, but I keep it tight,
Clean and compact, it's my right.
Hustle hard, but I stay on track,
Organized life, no turning back.

Clean and compact, that's how I roll,
A tidy world keeps feeding my soul.
In the hood or the calm, I don't retract,
I live my life all neat and compact.
(Compact—yeah, clean and compact…)