Lyrics:
real mayne
This for everybody out there searchin for somethin
Ain't nothin wrong with makin it out
Stay focused, get what you can get man and keep movin
an assault, that I caught, in Bridgeport, New York
Catch me if you can like the Gingerbread Man
You better have your gat in hand, 'cause man
Come and roll
parents were both poor, I didn't know what to make of it
Until I got mass appeal when being poor made me rich
This is how it feel when you riding in
a kiss
So yo, so I blend in the mix
Now a day don't go by I ain't been in a chick
Eight and a half on the dope, ask Dominican Rich
Winning and rich
Oh as I roved out one bright summer's morn
Down by Blackwaterside
I'd be gazing on the flowers that did bloom all around
When a pretty Irish girl
'bout what they talkin', fuck her best friend, bitch, I'm rich
Fuck your man man, ho, I'm lit
Plus my whole clique full of pits
I go put on Fendi pants
off the poor but I'm a slave to the rich
I'm in depression so, this reflection is making me sick
Are you the one that's come to set me free?
I was born a woman I'm glad it happened that way
It makes no difference if you're rich or poor or if you're smart or dumb
A woman's place in this
Fear me not but fear my hell
Man made me so I could kill
Praise me in the name of war
I destroy both rich and poor
I am the way, prepare for
you haven't won anything
And being loud and rich don't make you king
When this all goes away generations will sing
That a sad orange man once thought
rich and lonely people
Looking in the wrong place
Just another heart gone to waste
And looking back at myself I
Used to be that man
I would trade love
Ten miles to northward of the narrow port
Open'd a larger haven: thither used
Enoch at times to go by land or sea
And once when there, and clambering
Man, one song for a dime
I got songs that'll make ya happy
And songs that'll make ya cry
I got a special poor man's blues
Two for the price of one
(I'm here for the same reason you is, man
I want some crack)
Rich nigga, got it out the mud
Made it out the street
Got two bad bitches on they
Knees
by my damn self
By my damn self, upped it by my damn self
I remember I was goin' hard by my damn self
My damn self, I did it by my damn self
I
When I sleep I dream of bodies in streams of blood
Naked bitches, dead nigga's ghost, Feds with toast
Knockin' my door down sweat poor down my body
I'm a creep
A total ladies man in my own mind
I'm a creep
Staring at your ass while waiting in line
I'm a creep
Walking by and slightly touching your
a rich man's game
No matter what they call it
And you spend your life
Putting money in his wallet
9 to 5 oh What a way to make a livin'
Barely gettin' by
It's hard to make it
Gettin' harder every day
It's Hell tryin to make it
When you're doin it by yourself
It's Hell payin taxes
When there's no
born a little less than
The darker the skin the more of a wicked man
Gettin banned from the plan made by the Great Almighty Hand
Frame the lane, a nigga
they
Said: "man get your money, man we ain't call
You snitch, man we ain't mad you
Rich, man keep on makin' hit's
And fuck that other shit"
Could it
willingly re-elected a fuckin' crackhead
In the 4-1-6
More like "We-hate-the-poor-1-6"
No one's rich
Credit don't make a man more, a bitch
Book don't make
the drip
In the hood bitch we was poor but now we really, really gettin' rich
All my life I wanted dough and mo cheddar
Now we fly private coast to coast
“shine my boots?”
Are you dumb?
(Are you dumb?)
Cah our culture is rich
And their culture is war
(Woo)
Man they stole from the rich
& they made us poor
But
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