I hope you pussy mother fuckers die
Wish death upon they soul until they burning in a fire
Illest motherfucker breathing, fuck your rhyme or your reason
Fucking over your issues is killing a whole niggas season
I made my way, way, I found my road, road
Bar-arada-da, I made my own, ho, eghck
You ain’t ever have shit local nigga
Woo, how the fuck I own you local niggas
I’m a global nigga, sean’s allizay shopper
Looked up to Eric B and dope dealer, chain rockers
Here was you when I was bleeding
Disappointed and battling my demons
Just want to ride Italian leather, acting like you don’t know me
Euro designer palace, fuck my bitch on my Sony
And I feel…
[Hook: Andrea Martin]
And I feel like they want to take my life
Be Careful what you say, be careful what you do
Tell them what they want to hear, but staying from the truth
And I feel like they want to take my life
[Verse 2]
It ain’t enough that I struggle through my career
Less appreciated than when I was part of a pair
Pushed an envelope of truth like I was there
Depiction and the depth was the proff that I was there
It’s no question in my origins
Photo album full of Polaroid’s they’re still pointing in
Couple million records sold, they say I’m still poisoning
Seven different SIM cards, bringing all that mortar in
Brick by brick nigga, all you add is water in
We ain’t got to touch hands nigga, put your order in
I just want to float through clouds with red seams on my towel
No overly gaudy shit, just diamonds on the dials
Woo, and I’m still buying mo’ guns
Mo’ money, mo’ murder nigga, choose one
[Hook]
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