Survivor's Remorse

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Harry Fraud

Rory William Quigley (born January 26, 1987), known professionally as Harry Fraud, is an American record producer and composer. Primarily a hip hop producer, Fraud began producing at an early age and began interning at a recording studio after graduating high school. First discovered by French Montana during a recording session in Chinatown in early 2009, Fraud has gone on to become a fixture in the New York underground and mixtape scene. He gained mainstream attention when his song with French Montana "Shot Caller" became one of the most added tracks on urban contemporary radio between 2011-2012.Fraud has produced collaborative records with various rappers, such as Flight 2011 (2011) with Chinx Drugz; Rugby Thompson (2012) with Smoke DZA; Cigarette Boats (20… more »

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In the middle of all this
Money, shows, clothes, and hoes
You know I still think about my niggas
(La música de Harry Fraud)

Uh, you know my type, I'm official built (one hunnid)
When I was nine my momma sent me to the store to get the kids some milk
The beat is clean I had to live through filth (shit was dirty)
Your dawg'll get you peeled
For you to stand this tall I gotta get you stilts (nigga)
You got plans for getting rich well consider this
The ones who expect the most favors ain't give you shit (f*ck you want?)
I was the best cook, stepped on work with my right and left foot
Before you even knew how a connect look
You know my pot game was textbook
Who sold more dope than us except Push?
The proof is in how my neck look (my neck look)
I tell my bitch to get dressed up (out that on)
But I keep the same shit on, new twenty bands and a fresh cut
Remember when I told Black to give me a mission
He pulled up in fifteen minutes to give me a biscuit (true story)
I thought about this rap shit and had to stick to the business 
I changed my mind, he didn't
Now he doing twenty in Clinton and that could have been me

Uh, This supposed to be success 
Then why the f*ck I feel stressed out and guilty?
(I feel stressed out and guilty, f*ck) Damn
'Cause I'm paid and all my niggas in the feds 
Or the grave that shit kill me 
(Lord, you know that shit kill me) Uh
That could've been me
I think about it every day, yeah, that could've been me 
(Real shit, they want my name too, nigga) Uh
That could've been me (could've been me)
I answer every call from jail 'cause that could've been me (real shit)

When it cold it gets grimy out
They do you dirty for all kind of clout
The OG's throwing bombs like a timing route
I'm more comfortable with my diamonds out
This that hoody under Army fatigue jackets with the lining out
After that one little run you ain't been poppin' since (what happened?)
My plug guarantee me fifty, Greg Popovich
See that could have been me stressed out locking in
My young boy gonna pull up with that fire like he's Papa Nicks (doot, doot, doot, doot)
Yeah, that would have been me calling collect
Telling my war stories to the Vets
Free Hottie 'til it's backwards, free Dark Lo and the rest
My hood goin' through a crisis ain't no real niggas left (damn)
Ain't no fathers
If you make it out your twenties then you blessed (Amen)
Got to change your situation when your momma and them stressed
If it's sixty when it's wholesale it's ninety with the Fent'
Grab your pride and grab your Sket
It get colder than Quebec, it could have been me

Uh, this supposed to be success 
Then why the f*ck I feel stressed out and guilty?
(I feel stressed out and guilty, f*ck) Damn
'Cause I'm paid and all my niggas in the feds 
Or the grave that shit kill me 
(Lord, you know that shit kill me) Uh
That could've been me (yeah)
I think about it every day, yeah, that could've been me
(Real shit, they want my name too, nigga) (that could've been me, uh, you know I'm sayin'?)
That could've been me (f*ck I do to deserve this?)
I answer every call from jail 'cause that could've been me (la música de Harry Fraud)
Real shit (let's go)

I kept my foot on they necks, right where it 'posed to be (where it 'posed to be)
Over this Harry Fraud shit, like the ghost of Chinx
I f*ck my bitch until she soak the sheets
I was destined to have this spot
Guess at the top is where we 'posed to meet (The Butcher comin', nigga)
How we playin'? Shit you know for keeps (you know for keeps)
At eleven-hundred an ounce they hit my house that's when I broke the lease (I'm gone)
Y'all talk this street shit with no receipts
But thank God for the coca leaf and the flow that woke the streets (yeah)
All I'm saying is that was us
You let our secrets out, electric chairs and get plugged up
Hit the trap and play the drug stuff, they gon' get a blood rush
I get a witness hit, f*ck it I'll get a judge touched
'Cause I never loved much, I just had a trunk full of trouble (trouble)
Enough dirt for a shovel (shovel) and three hoes I had to juggle (hoes I had to juggle)
What you know about visiting your family through a bubble? (Damn)
Waiting on a court date like Duffel, that's my nigga (free my nigga)
That could have been me
That could have been me

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