Lyrics:
We all cried at the ending
We all stayed for the credits
And I kept my ticket as a souvenir
Found our way by the usher's light
To a place
your boy credit knowin she
Struggles tryin to get it, sports fake designer bags, brags on her
Clothin price tags, sayin she got em from her man, but
[ VERSE 1 ]
Yo, this shit keeps weighin me down, beatin me up
Like every day's governed by Murphy's Law
It never drops, but inside I'm, tied up
In
I'm from a small hood and we big on respect
You get your money up, you go big on your neck
Hit the dealership and go big on the Vette
By any means,
by the tears not in your eyes
It's quittin' time
There's somethin' to be said for sayin' what needs sayin'
A suitcase says it all to me
Before
Now we all have faults, we all know right from wrong.
We all have faults, we all know right from wrong.
But I don't give no man credit, for breakin'
Risqué lil' hoes keep tryin', by the end of the day my M's gettin' wired
My own rims for every time we tried
I'm sensei and senseless, same time
Two
learnin' street lessons
From the mastermind, first you master grind
Then your team catch it
This time is for the money, I don't need credit
And I'm
the fifth amendment
We both criminals with bad intentions
They say time heals all
But if I can shortcut
My success, Corvettes by tomorrow
Why so sad?
Many people look through their wallet or their pocket books and, way down at the bottom, past the
credit cards and baby pictures and so on, you
He works hard to give her all he thinks she wants
A three car garage, her own credit cards
He pulls in late to wake her up with a kiss good night
If
quiet this way
I have to smile and take credit for being
The first to truly say
Oh, through it all a spirit that's brighter by far
Then all
write us, you can stop your arthritis
Just by dancin' away your blues
Just by dancin' away your blues
So bind up your bunions with band-aids and gauze
credit cards and don't do shit, bitch
I travel throughout the year
I keep a woman with a house and her own career
So when I buy her a diamond ring, it's
crumblin' to the ground
I've been footin' the bill for some time
Stretchin' my credit out of line
Well, I may not get ahead but now I won't be far behind
on the train witcha backpack tight
and keep rappin', I'm floatin past all the stops
In a clean ass Benz I have all the props
Fuck credit from a rapper can you
remember days that I couldn't get by
Not outside, they come with it inside
Now your venue, we gotta resize
I can't give all this credit to Colgate
By
need of capital, in search of a loan
And it's a few bankin' institutions who got the remedy
But this is America
Where credit is for the privileged
And every bar-code is divided into two parts by three markers
And those three markers are always represented by the number six
'6 6 6'
And what does it
a visit
Talkin' bout "I'm pregnant by some other nigga"
Beef is high blood pressure and bad credit
Need a loan for your home and you're too broke to get
And there ain't no goin' back
Rodeo girl
Saddle up
There's no more credit in this bank
Try your luck
Up in the East
Down in the West
Hold on tight
bar-code is divided into two parts by three markers
And those three markers are always represented by the number six
'6 6 6'
And what does it say?
No one
Tana's by the Troubadour
Harry Dean singing Oh Danny Boy
After hours at the Overpass
Hour after hour at the Overpass
I went looking for Warren
a credit check
That's overlooked and better left forgot.
By the way...! Here's another fee you
Gotta pay all the kids have been
Enlisted don't look now
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