VERSE 1:
You see, it's stunning...The number of women I think is fronting.
You say you want a G, and you willing to be his woman.
Wouldn't leave him for nothing; you feel him, cuz he 1-hunnit,
And you real too...But could you deal wit the repercussions?
Interrupting your sleep, when you feel the police are coming,
Or stuffing a ki of krill in your ceiling to keep it from em.
Hushing it, if you questioned. Accessory to a crime,
Detectives applying pressure, and threatening you wit time.
Are you sociable?...Showing emotion when they approaching you?
Do you know the rules, to be doing what you supposed to do?
Or is you folding, and making your word revocable,
Knowing he'd risk his life, for a better one for the both of you?
And when he's tried, are you the shorty who ride?
Or when you said you'd hold him down, are you the shorty who lied?
When them lawyer fees high, and your loyalty's tried,
Mami, tell me exactly, where do your priorities lie?
HOOK:
You could live wit him...Eat, run around, sleep, and have a kid wit him...
But if it ever got deep, and the pigs hit him...
Could you keep it real enough to do a bid wit him?
Shorty, would you bid wit him?
Shorty, you could live wit him...Eat, run around, sleep, and have a kid wit him...
But if it ever got deep, and the pigs hit him...
Could you keep it real enough to do a bid wit him?
Shorty, would you bid wit him?
VERSE 2:
Time wasted...in a race; he spent it chasing
Money with his nikkas, in different places.
Litigation...tests his limited inner patience,
In a case, listening to witnesses ventilation...With a statement.
Defense is breaking; he get a continuation,
And he waiting on his bytch, and she missing his visitation...
With no consideration, for him or the shyt he facing,
Cuz she pay him no attention, when getting some penetration.
UGH...shyt is raw. He sick, and his bytch a whore.
He don't need no explanation, to know what she missing for.
Shorty creepin while he tweakin...A nikka gettin them draws.
Get a call, see it's him?...Roll over and hit ignore.
And once, she accidentally accepted on the phone,
And he heard her conversation; how "he's never coming home,"
And shyt...Might as well say it again...
This the type of shyt that real nikkas deal wit, every day in the pen.
Cuz
HOOK
VERSE 3:
And I hate to see a real nikka settle for you muthafukkas...
He catch a case, and now you better than a muthafukka?
It ain't even bout the chedda from a muthafukka...
Just send some flicks, some letters for a muthafukka...
My man baby mother told him she ain't tryna write...
She on the gram all day, but won't fly a kite.
Then go missin, it's so vicious, she won't wit it.
Wit no visits from hoe bytches who don't get it.
I learned this shyt a long time ago, nikka...
Don't put your trust in NO kind of hoe, nikka...
Focus on YOU if you tryna blow, nikka...
She wait til you stuck, and then climb on yo nikka...
Remember the whole world was taking shots at Meek Milly...
Sitting in a cell, situation seemed sticky.
The Queen was holding down da King, when she could be picky.
You think dat chu could be Nicki?
HOOK
BRIDGE
