Lyrics:
"Fuck the President" it's evident
Hip Hop dead, them new niggas irrelevant
Different color braids, you niggas stuck in the maze
Ain't grew up by
the hard way
My life must be a movie, niggas act like Broadway
Bounce out with that Uzi, turn this bitch to a ghost place
Who said I ain't no shooter?, make
cause he has the bad luck to be suicidal
We niggas, we blacks, we men of the African diaspora
Got the world title on broken promises, broken hearts,
your face, make it seem to be safe
But ain't no place to run
Sometimes I don't even know how I'm gon' eat
'Bout twenty dollars away from being
moves (got 'em)
A hundred racks in blues (Franks)
In a shoebox, hell nah, them ain't no motherfuckin' shoes (racks)
(Ayy, what you do, nigga?)
Took
calls to my dogs from the county jail
Sending me mail
Heard the block's in the same shape
Ain't nothin' changed
Niggas slangin' at the same place
call me LL
not LLs bells i’m ACDC N these hells bells
dis Is me, if u hate it, take it or leave it
these my dreams, if u debate it it, just dont believe
the game
Ain't nothin' change but my finances
I still be stressed
All these motherfucking worries got a nigga depressed
I'm just tired
Every night, I
I ain't giving you nothing
[Chorus]
We be the best We ain't talking about women we be talking about paper
Already made come and terrible
Played the hell out yo part
And bitches gone fold so you gotta move smart
That shit fucked me up cause that bit was a shark
She tried to keep me in a place
Ain't nobody fit to do shit important
People really don't give no fuck about nothing
Although they may smile and be cordial
Dealin' around with the wrong
It ain't tricking off, it ain't tricking off
This ain't tricking off, this ain't tricking off
This ain't tricking off, but I be spending on her
hands are calloused July to July
I use a Big Dipper to navigate by
Fight off the wolves who drink from my well
So I have to be mean as hell
the airs getting thick
When the dead start to rise and there's no place to hide
I see Mossberg On 2pac,
B-I-G with two glocks
Big L from hell and back
ambition
Past the streets we see past the image
Cause you're the last friend by the
Grave of the prison hall
And you're the first friend to tell
'em to be
rage and if I let out
Then I'll be gone
Wake up
Roll up my problems
Inhale
Living in hell
There's no way to tell
No where I'm safe
Place weight
was originally
Scheduled to be released last
Year, but it was pushed back
By Meek's label, Atlantic
After he was sentenced to
Six months in prison
(He
You can catch me on that bypass high as hell
515 that's where I dwell
Bout to snatch your clientele
You ain't doin nothin, I might as well
By my lonely,
ain't no place for lovers anymore
And it ain't no place for us
Ay yo
What the hell am I rhymin' for?
Designer clothes and designer whores
Designer cars
the hell am I supposed to be indoors all day and still get the bag? (the bag)
Study for two and I'll give up my whole life to school and then still get
Someday he'll come along
The man I love
And he'll be rich and strong
The man I love
And when he comes my way
I'll do my best to make him stay
He'll look
laugh at yer look
Your voice or your face
And by any number of bets in the book
Will be rollin' long after the bubblegum craze
You need something
tonight's an accident, tomorrow we'll recover
And I know I'm not supposed to judge a book by its cover
I don't wanna be in the blind, but sometimes I Stevie
tryna ride on my cheese, Niggas tryna ride on my wave
I got hell lotta problems
Niggas tryna take my shit, Niggas tryna take my plate
I got hell lotta
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