[Intro: Mistah F.A.B.]
Rest in peace to the homie Biggie Smalls
I remember bein' 19 years old in the sauce, man, shout out the homie Gotti
And they asked me what was the greatest hit pop song of all time
And I said, "Juicy"
Goddamn it, DJ D-Higgs, you did it again

[Verse 1: Mistah F.A.B.]
It was all a dream, I used to read Showcase magazine
Too $hort and 40 Water on the cover, clean
Hangin' pictures on my wall
And every Saturday, MC Hammer cartoon came on
Dancin' in the street, actin' like the rappers in the videos
I was Biggie Smalls and Newt was gettin' his Diddy on (Take that)
Sittin' in the room, playin' the radio loud
Mama bust in the room, "Boy, cut that radio down"
No cable, couldn't watch MTV
Watchin' Cindy on Soulbeat, Trace and Frannie on CMC
Respect to Big Vine and the homie Chewy
And one love to Jazzy Jim and Gary Archer for believin' in me
Child of a heroin addict and a crack fiend
Nobody believed I'd ever live my rap dreams
Shout out Kevin Epps for puttin' me in the movie Rap Dreams
Now I got plaques on my wall from this rap thing

[Chorus: BSmasha]
Livin' very well, yes we are
Neighborhood superstars, nice fancy cars
That gold chain, and the ice go drip drip
When we were comin' up, we didn't have shit

[Verse 2: Mistah F.A.B.]
We was savin' change 'cause we had to eat
And if we couldn't afford it, Daddy was a common thief
His alias was Fugitive, but the family called him Fug
Kleptomaniac and boy, he was good
Wish he was still here 'cause we don't gotta steal stuff no more
And mama, the bills paid, it ain't tough no more, huh
The worst days was the birthdays
Now we sip rosé while we thirsty
And I spread love the Oakland way
Even though half of my family was smokin' yay
Always knew that it could happen, this rappin' stuff
Because I always had a gift, so I wrapped it up
And plus my brother did enough time for them not to see me in the court
I still remember my mama smilin' when she seen me in The Source
And like my brother Styles and them, it was tears of joy
Sheddin' thug tears for my peers and boys

[Chorus: BSmasha]
Livin' very well, yes we are
Neighborhood superstars, nice fancy cars
That gold chain, and the ice go drip drip
When we were comin' up, we didn't have shit

[Verse 3: Mistah F.A.B.]
Super Nintendo, SEGA Genesis
Yeah I had it, but, that ain't mean shit
'Cause my auntie stole my game so she could get a hit
I was stressed at my game and I couldn't get a hit
Yeah, sittin' in the outfield, thinkin' how my house feel
And all I hear is mama always complainin' about bills
Granny ain't got no heat in the house so we about chilled
Daddy say he was on his way back, but he out still
Daddy died, now he my angel in the outfield
Man, you wasn't poor
You don't know how white around the mouth feel
Raid for the roaches and you tryna catch a mouse still
Know what starvin' like, how ain't no food in the house feel?
8 years old, findin' crack in the couch feel
All facts, you can check the rap if you doubt, Phil
Bro been in jail since I was a kid and he ain't out still
Libby ain't gon' never know how livin' life without feel

[Chorus: BSmasha]
Livin' very well, yes we are
Neighborhood superstars, nice fancy cars
That gold chain, and the ice go drip drip
When we were comin' up, we didn't have shit

[Outro: BSmasha]
Livin' very well, yes we are
Neighborhood superstars, nice fancy cars
That gold chain, and the ice go drip drip
When we were comin' up, we didn't have shit