Always wondered why niggas envied me
Your bitchy attitudes and remarks just never offended me
Know your identity before you try to pretend to me
In tune with the enemy, so my enemy won't be the end of me
Hands on the wheel, I hold them 10 to 3
I'm ridin' filthy, in a sense that's why they'll find me guilty
Ridin' shotty is my homie, in the future he'll probably try to kill me
But presently that thought I find is silly
To my surprise, the thought of my demise is fantasised
Amongst niggas who plan to rise
You can't trust a friend's a feelin' you can't describe, shit
Now I meditate with my heat tucked
In a McLaren tryna self medicate with my seats up
Demonstrate how these streets tough, just keep up
I'm in a space, let me illiterate
Never celebrate with ya re-up, dummy
You half steppin', pick yo' feet up sonny
The last second to the speak up for me, just do the math
See who'll laugh when you on top and you finally slip up
Why should you keep a nigga down that you finally could lift up? (Why?)
Your brother came to you and said, he gon' need him a quick plug
You denied him, and then he watched you throw ones in a strip club, damn
Hate in his eyes, while you showin' this bitch love
'Cause the money wasted on shorty, he uses to flip drugs
I give up, where's all this loyalty? Let switch it
You give him the money, he buys the drugs
Gets locked and now he needs lawyer fees, damn
So before you say all them niggas hatin' (Uh huh)
Don't place yourself inside the situation (Smart)
Yeah, try to avoid it when the shit is waitin' (Why?)
You gave him hell, now come and sit with Satan
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
