Оригинален текст
Verse 1
Uh uh, Uh, Uh
Ayo, mac 10s and fake friends
Lawyers little game homicide 25 what the fk a nigg* facin
But I'm still trill, still holdin
Rollin gully until I'm frozen, closed in a box with embalming fluid
Veins pumpin ice
First and 15th keep that caine pumping right
Hard white, cold cash
Hold fast, fold fast, through the city so gas
No ass
Straight head b*tch, I'm running from the feds
fk comma raps, Sam Giancana
All I got in this world is my fifth d*ck and nana
Gangsta mannerism lyrical vandalism
be burnin up their guns until the fking hammers h*t 'em
Who need help?
Well until then I'ma take that mac off the shelf
and hold these fking streets hostage
Blowing smoke out my nostrils
Every breath is a step to a untimely death
Hook 2X
I wanna know where to go
Need a place in my mind I can rest
Cause this time is running out for my flesh
Dried up, sittin' in a chair fried up
Verse 2
You know me; I don't need no introduction in this
Big gun, big d*ck, half of a mill on the wrist
Sittin in my continental thinkin' about potential connects
I live it all, just pencil the best
Parts of the life of a quintessential hustler
When I pull a slide back
Motherfkers be hoping they faces don't get left open
You understand?
Shirt soaking, brain smoking left in the ocean floatin'
Shyne Po, dough, stack, y'all Rap is trash
I don't give a fk how much records you sold
Tryin' to be me
Keep it real dog, you dyin to be me
You wanna know how it feel, don't you?
To have a murder charge, tote guns at American Music Awards
And live life against odds
Doing 170 screaming "fk THE WORLD" (gangsta get outta the car)
Hook 2X
Verse 3
Where the fk them at? We gonna handle this beef
Turn your mic off b*tch; see me in the street
fk peace 'til I'm restin in the dried up flesh is finish?
I don't know how to chill til I'm in the morgue
Dysfunctional, highly uncomfortable paranoid
Without the extra clip (b*tch), try me I'll puncture you
Had waking up with wings in their backs, halos in their head like
"Ayo I'm dead"
Can a knight fking princess Diana type
Vana White, vane light, pen I write cold, hand of ice
They said too much for the motor mind to comprehend
Walk wit me, pause take a breath (lets go)
Things ain't just the same for gangstas
Secret indictments fking up the game for gangstas
? charges tryin to arraign a gangsta
Through it all I maintain my gangsta
Hook until fade
