(Intro)
Don't be foolin' around, I tell the truth,
None of this is secret
(Verse)
Composing modern art for the most part
The rhymes' like a watering carp
This drag music scene of the city
Plottin', rollin' up with my nigga Twiggy
My cous' don't just hit it with a lick down in Mississippi
Told me we could make the shit happen if we had the money in Sidney
But I was too busy workin' hard, killin' these rappers
Till the point cash didn't matter
Most niggas don't deserve to live, but I don't wish death
Cause the life fuck all the niggas that's left
You used to tell me, man, fuck hoes, clothes and flows
When it's money to be made, if you wit me, let's go!
I said fuck that, I'm with my own route for the cash
Every time I seen him, he was scraped in gold
Hangin' with mainstream, back to the streets, backseat with heat
Passion inside, fuck with a freak
Next day act like he ain't do nothin'
Hell o' bank roll, put it in my hand and say lemme help you with your goals
It was tempting, but I hesitated
It was time for me to go to the booth, so I levitated
I forgot about this shit, hell, making music with doc
Four p.m., we didn't finish till 12 o'clock
When I left, cousin was still there, with the same bank rollin'
His other hand, and he added another four
I said, yo, whassup, cous', you must be trippin'
He said 'nah, the feds watchin' my ass, but I ain't slipping'
I didn't wanna take the fuckin' hand-out
I walked away and I took the motherfuckin' man route
Four days later, you niggas flossin' hard in the trunk
Playn unreleased for real and busta bust with me
He gon' be fresh, if the feds watch
Bicketry on his feet, his bed throt
From the block rappin', to the shit that I made three years ago
No body heard it befo', so they ain't even know I was cold
Now every nigga like 'mane, lemme get yo ass outta here'
I'mma get there on ym own, and them niggas like 'yeaaaaah'
I don't care if it take my last breath
I'm a skeleton, I'mma be doin' my dance of death
When I die, bury me with all my albums
And ? I won't ? dental album
If I had all my supporters from back in the day
There probably wouldn't be no Lupe or Yay
Just me, Three Suleyman and Three Blazin' and Sticky
You can hit me with all that bullshit very quickly
Walk down seventh night, all you see is mops and griffies
I'm in the carve-up with the locks and envy
Holler at my nigga Joe Motor Profit
About something that happened outta town, catastrophic
He like 'nigga, we got this'
(Hook x4)
Same shit, different day, for niggas
So I blaze up, sit back and just pray for niggas
(Outro)
(Mane, always raw, my niggas out here in the struggle, beatin' the system)
(Know what I'm sayn, I love my niggas)
(Praying for my niggas to death. Ah)
(Aw, for all my motherfuckers, still resting in peace)