Yeah, y'all
Yo, look
The niggas that y'all hype, I feel like they don't rap that nice
Trash bag rhymes, nah, nigga, pass that mic
And if you clap once at me then I'ma clap back twice
And watch your body on the news as I relax at night
In times of struggle, had nowhere to turn, that's when I missed my dad
Sometimes I grieve the parent that I wish I had
Got it on my own, I got it slow then I cooked it fast
My aura hard to read, like it's chicken scratch
I'm better with skills, my people fed up for real
History of a system that left us set up and killed
They wanna see us fail, it never was fair
Blacks on one side and whites on the other, that's Cruella de Vil
I always knew the hardest ones be the best wars fought
I ran up a check until the sweat poured off
I like to eat at restaurants where they cook the food in front of you
I'm sipping wine, telling the chef, "More salt," yeah
To see a check, he was risking his safety
Do drug numbers like Mike CDs did in the '80s
I told my man I need a ring before I give him a baby
One regret, I got money and started spending it crazy, damn
The power of moving silent and keeping a secret
'Cause even the quiet dummy can sing like a genius
I've been talented since my birth, I was deep as a fetus
I was powerful with my words, could turn demons to Jesus, yeah
I'm out there slinging my bag, kiddo
Soon to get a black Benz, ho
With the intent to split off
I'm out there slinging my bag, kiddo
Soon to get a black Benz, ho
With the intent to split off
I'm out there slinging my bag, kiddo
Soon to get a black Benz, ho
With the intent to split off
I'm out there slinging my bag, kiddo
Soon to get a black Benz, ho
With the intent to split off
With the intent, with the intent
With the intent to split off