Lyrics:
glock, with, the,
extra clip when shit gets thick
You gotta punch a kid, dead, in the, nose,
if he ever tries to front and diss
You need to puff a bag,
want it right now that's my line
Yea if she want play
She gonna have to shake that ass for a tip
The way she moving up and down gotta bounce like this
So
going down that way
Cut the ties if you gotta don't allow the fakes
Recognise your legacy that you gotta make
Life gives you opportunities you have
gonna go down
Baby, my 380
Hold 1 in the dome and some of it chrome
Avoid the beef your you running alone
Should have brought your piece your
Gun is
but it still feels far
Can we learn to get by if we learn to have scars?
If we learn to forgive and accept who we are
You said
"If you break my
guy, I'm in love with you
The Casanova legend must have been true"
I said, "By the way, baby, what's your name?"
Said, "I go by the name, Lois Lane"
play like En Vogue 'cause you're never gonna get it
The style, the flavor, the flow, the soloist
Hit you in a second, one, two, mic-checkin'
That's my
for me
Try to play with me you know it's gonna end disasterly
I was this close to running over three minors on halloween
Hit that ngga with a kick i hit
forever
Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages
Graduated from the you-and-I-versity
Of hard-hitters, for real
Yo, I got niggas in
walked outside to have a cigarette
It was freezing outside, the ground was covered in snow
When a girl confronted Debbie outside and said
"You think
a rookie wit' it fag
She'll have to boof that in a cookie like a pad
You rookies are just mad, you can't say shit to me
You gotta get rid of me, I'm 'bout
I got a bag
Yea
I gotta bag
Yea
I got a bag
Yea
I gotta bag for you
Man that shit was hard asf I'm not even gonna cap to you bro (Aye)
Like, like if
cannot give up bro you gotta fight
Bro you don't have nothing to prove
But you do have somethin to lose
Think about how your children would feel
If you
than this 80 and you
I know the money ain't right, but soon it will be
I'ma make a better life for you if it kills me
In a mintue, it's gonna be gravy,
okay, but you can say no way,
I'm drinkin' for honey,
If I wouldn't be kickin' these rhymes so funky,
You and your crew would never have bought my shit
You're running out of change
On people that will always be the same
They're gonna do nothing but play games
You only have yourself
So get up dust off
show
Then boy you've got a real long way to go
I don't even know what I should say right here
If you don't have a plan you're gonna pay, my dear
It's
all fine!
Underground, hey, please come as you are
Make yourself good and have a drink at the bar
Come by and care about feelin' alright
If you don't
this shit
Homie I play Texas hold ‘em with
The chips that’s on my shoulder
Sometimes I wonder if I’m the
Only one getting older
A bunch of child egos in
better every time I spit
I don't keep my sword low
Tell me why would I do that?
Doesn't make sense when you're in a game this cutthroat
If you wanna
the high rollers, street hustlers
Fast money, fast life
But you don't care, 'til you end up with a bullet in your head, boy
People of the city, stop
On the phone making plays
In the kitchen 3 scales 4 stoves no plates
Bring the pack to your house
You ain't even gotta wait
Double bags vacuum sealed
You ain't
cut all the time
Nigga you gotta put the whole 5 in it)
You gon' shoot me 5
Or what? Fuckin' bastard
(I know you're on a budget, but damn)
Meet them at the Bodegas, noon Friday
You get the buy money then
Oh and chico, if anything happens to the buy money
Eh, pobrecito
Jay-Z's gonna stick
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