Not a straight and narrow. You a choir mouse
So what the fukk is you cryin' bout
Is taking Fed chances by the ounce
the only way you putting food inside your mouth
Ducking new indictments, gun inside the couch
Staying up at night, hearing sirens out
Nah, counting racks, sippin' dirty
fukkin bad bytches, all your lifes about
You a rat nikka? Man, look at these rap nikkas
Insta-thuggin, Snap-trapping
Help 'em write it
They say too much and get they self indicted
Touching work for them cameras nikka?
Gang gang, with your hammer, nikka
My advice, if you don't give a fukk
Kill yourself and bring your camera wit'cha
My nikkas? Got a plan
Coppin' grams, but ain't got a 'Gram
Drumming like Contra, for contraband
Scamming vics, like it's not a scam
Your squad? Not a chance
Video shoot, takin shots at cams
Twitter fingers turn to trigger fingers
But all I see is a lotta hands
Gave my life away in GP
Four years, that was easy
Sliced a nikka over Keefee
shyt got harder after they released me
Never did a day up in no PC
But nowadays the game is so PC
See, the way these nikkas wylin' for the fame
Might as well be suckin' dikk for retweets
Cold War. Stalin on 'em since '04
Don't wanna hear these nikkas no more
I might shoot a rapper, go hit a lick
And do my own tour
This rap shyt, like the Clone Wars
Bite your style, like they own yours
p*ssy nikka...make me laugh
A pimp who fall in love with known whores
God damn
These goofy nikkas really talking down, like
They got the sound...but that don't sound right
How you mislead 'em, and cheat 'em? nikka you ain't even right
All them songs that made you hot? nikka you ain't even write