[Verse]
Just look in my eyes you can tell I'm a G
I ain't no maybe between it, It's just plain to see
I done been through it all
And I still stand tall
Done lost more than I gained
But still manage to ball
I'm MVP like Kobe
I made it rich off the streets
And got shot and robbed and did time from the streets
Took trips for bricks and made it right back safe
Done buried two of my brothers thats why I'm strapped with the K
They never said it was easy but me I like the fast cash
Been a boss since birth I had the change and bags
Now thirty some years later I'm still on the same shit
Catch me crossing the border with three bitches with bricks
I'm the neighborhood hero some say I'm an idol
Cause I move so quick and get that paper like Michael
I should've went to the pros from high school but no
I found myself in the trap cooking bagging up O's
Hanging with the old heads I always thought I was grown
That's why at sixteen years old I was out on my own
Staying house to house I dipped quick for cash
Wasn't no living and chilling I had to chase that cash
Never been the club type I always wanted that money
While most danced and partied I was counting my money
You may be servin' my [?]
I ran the streets on my own
I didn't go back in until the dope was gone
Some say I was crazy but me I call it the hustle
They say cash run the world, well then cash is my muscle
I made plays off phones made $70,000 at home
Didn't have to do no footwork I made a call to my clones
AKA my lil' goons don't get it twisted they killers
Since I'm feeding my circle, Know they will die for a nigga
You ain't get nowhere if you cross that line
And if it's about my cash man yo ass is dying
I got a plug out in Cali
Got everything that I want
So when I'm done with my socket
I can go buy what I want
I bought an S550 all black with forgi's
Rode that bitch though the hood and had multiple orgi's
You couldn't do what I do if I gave you my shoes
A lot of you niggas is lost with still something to prove
Don't know the meaning of stacking
Don't have a clue about the profit
While love made niggas ballin' they on the sideline watchin
You know them funny ass niggas
That always got something to say
Always flaugin' the bitches
Screaming that they getting paid
But really just in the way
It's like nobody is straight
Everybody scream team but deep down they gay
Whatever happened to chiefs
Whatever happened to indians
Everybody's a boss that's why my young niggas getting 'em
Sticking straps to they face
Kicking doors in, robbing
No runnin' laps 'round you suckas
Nah, foreal I'm joggin'
I do this shit for the hood
I do this shit for the streets
Every time I drop I'm giving you more of me
Uncut foreal no soda just blow
You can cook [?] feed the whole world this blow
I'm gymnastic with white
The God man with weed
I done sold it all
Except heroin and speed
I'm allergic to broke
Thats why I go so hard
And I don't plan on stopping
Unless it's a calling from God
All my niggas they huddle up saying Crim' go ham
That's why I brought you this crack, Blow 3.5 Grams
All my niggas they huddle up saying Crim' go ham
That's why I brought you this crack, Blow 3.5 Grams
Nigga!
Just look in my eyes you can tell I'm a G
I ain't no maybe between it, It's just plain to see
I done been through it all
And I still stand tall
Done lost more than I gained
But still manage to ball
I'm MVP like Kobe
I made it rich off the streets
And got shot and robbed and did time from the streets
Took trips for bricks and made it right back safe
Done buried two of my brothers thats why I'm strapped with the K
They never said it was easy but me I like the fast cash
Been a boss since birth I had the change and bags
Now thirty some years later I'm still on the same shit
Catch me crossing the border with three bitches with bricks
I'm the neighborhood hero some say I'm an idol
Cause I move so quick and get that paper like Michael
I should've went to the pros from high school but no
I found myself in the trap cooking bagging up O's
Hanging with the old heads I always thought I was grown
That's why at sixteen years old I was out on my own
Staying house to house I dipped quick for cash
Wasn't no living and chilling I had to chase that cash
Never been the club type I always wanted that money
While most danced and partied I was counting my money
You may be servin' my [?]
I ran the streets on my own
I didn't go back in until the dope was gone
Some say I was crazy but me I call it the hustle
They say cash run the world, well then cash is my muscle
I made plays off phones made $70,000 at home
Didn't have to do no footwork I made a call to my clones
AKA my lil' goons don't get it twisted they killers
Since I'm feeding my circle, Know they will die for a nigga
You ain't get nowhere if you cross that line
And if it's about my cash man yo ass is dying
I got a plug out in Cali
Got everything that I want
So when I'm done with my socket
I can go buy what I want
I bought an S550 all black with forgi's
Rode that bitch though the hood and had multiple orgi's
You couldn't do what I do if I gave you my shoes
A lot of you niggas is lost with still something to prove
Don't know the meaning of stacking
Don't have a clue about the profit
While love made niggas ballin' they on the sideline watchin
You know them funny ass niggas
That always got something to say
Always flaugin' the bitches
Screaming that they getting paid
But really just in the way
It's like nobody is straight
Everybody scream team but deep down they gay
Whatever happened to chiefs
Whatever happened to indians
Everybody's a boss that's why my young niggas getting 'em
Sticking straps to they face
Kicking doors in, robbing
No runnin' laps 'round you suckas
Nah, foreal I'm joggin'
I do this shit for the hood
I do this shit for the streets
Every time I drop I'm giving you more of me
Uncut foreal no soda just blow
You can cook [?] feed the whole world this blow
I'm gymnastic with white
The God man with weed
I done sold it all
Except heroin and speed
I'm allergic to broke
Thats why I go so hard
And I don't plan on stopping
Unless it's a calling from God
All my niggas they huddle up saying Crim' go ham
That's why I brought you this crack, Blow 3.5 Grams
All my niggas they huddle up saying Crim' go ham
That's why I brought you this crack, Blow 3.5 Grams
Nigga!
( Criminal Manne )
www.ChordsAZ.com