Still shining for Diamond, put a blunt in the air
Death from probable causes, we don't fuck with you squares, nigga
Four block bangin’, dope spot yankin'
Ran through a skit but I just won't stop yankin’
Make no statements, don't y'all play with my gangsta
Jump on fleeky like I play for the Lakers
Semi-automatic hit me, one in each chamber
Lately I been findin' lot of comfort in prayer
Death from probable causes, why I don't fuck with you squares
Still shining for Diamond, put a blunt in the air
Put a blunt in the air
Who I'm 'posed to feel with this AR on me?
I paid cash but the AR stole it
Tryna picture me rollin' inside a Buick, shooters under influence
If we gon’ do it, nigga, fuck it, let’s do it
Goin' in for the kill
Hold me down like you told me you will
House niggas don’t belong in the field, you know the drill, homie
Blood, I'd rather niggas rob me than to steal from me
Thumbin' through these M&M's, dirty money still lullin’
Still thuggin', let my youngin do his lil' Dougie
Lil' rugged, lil' slummy, bitches still love it
Where was all these hoes at when it was lookin' ugly?
Heartbroken over Dooterz when they took her from me
Nigga uncle used to push it, let him cook it for me
I was taught examine your purchase before they took the money
Brung the Benz out, all them lil' babies lookin' stubby
Ain't no rap check either, this with the bitches' money
When I was bummy, they was laughin' like, "This how you bomin'?"
I took a gamble, shot the dice, it's either all or nothin'
Gave Grams a hundred K and it was all in hundreds
Bought Grams the Range Rover, that's the one she wanted
I just want it where my family never want for nothin'
Took the killers out the trenches, tryna show 'em somethin', yeah
I'm just tryna show 'em somethin'
Took the killers out the trenches, they don't owe me nothin'
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
