Tonart: E minor•
Verse 1
Em
Uh, uh, niggas smile in your face
but the envy just grows
Now your so -called homies
G
best friends with your ho
Em
Tryna manipulate your lifestyle
and switch up your flow
tryna find a safe with the dough
Em
I know y 'all feeling this
Nobody follows the rules
and the game is limitless
I reminisce on partners back in the day
Cm
That went down like soldiers
busting choppers in caves
Em
Pour out some liquor for them niggas,
Em
Get out the brunt, Champelle,
G
light it up and then blaze
Em
It's a thin line between
Cm
But niggas bite the bait,
the end result's the joke
Em
Eliminate all the faultiness
Fm
Em
Look at the zombies from the streets
G
and put meth in they pipes
Em
Knockers glorify the white,
please believe it ain't hype
Cm
That's why I block watch the area
Em
in hoodies and nights
need to wrap this dope
D#
Bb
up like mummies
Em
my kids need food in they tummies
Fm
When shit get real bad
G
Bb
and it ain't looking good for me
Em
I'ma do what I do to get that
Cm
Em
cold cash money
need to wrap this dough
Eb
Bb
up like mummies
G
Cm
G
my kids need food in they tummies
Fm
When shit get real bad
G
and it ain't looking good for me
Cm
I'ma do what I do to get that
Well it's a modern day nom,
I used to always ask moms
Why we living in tents?
She said cause it's the only place
with affordable rents
G
And before she get a check
Cm
her money's already spent
That's how it be when you
Some hatin', some gettin' it good
Fuck lifestyles,
make niggas turn into thugs
Look around, check the PJs,
it's murder and blood
Cm
Em
Dope fiends, morphine,
unexplainable drugs
Task force one time in your ear like bugs
On the block, fuckin' cops
tryin' to roll like rugs
And niggas wonder why
I'm gangsta,
say I take it too far
Cm
Shit, I'm constantly bein' put
in the back of patrol cars
Em
All these fakin' hate niggas snitch
to get a lesser charge
Droppin' dimes, hittin' niggas
like a pass from Brett Favre
I stick, faint, and move,
but I'm always on guard
Cm
On the lookout for those tryna put
need to wrap this dough
Em
my kids need food in they tummies
Fm
When shit get real bad
Em
and it ain't lookin' good for me
Cm
Em
I'ma do what I do to get that
Cm
Em
cold cash money
Eb
need to wrap this dough up like mummy
Bb
Em
Gotta sur vive,
G
Cm
Em
my kids need food in they tummies
Fm
When shit get real bad
Em
and it ain't lookin' good for me
Cm
I'ma do what I do to
get that cold cash
Em
Playing styles of a hood nigga
G
Tryin' to keep from throwin'
Em
up them hood jesters
Checkin' moms,
watchin' out for high blood pressure
Drastic measures,
keep me roamin' the blocks
Cm
The fuckin' fifties tryin'
to hit me up on the spot
heat up in my glove box
Fm
It ain't legal for them haters
Em
And the skies that be claimin'
they see through dough
G
Bm
Cm
Gettin' me fist, a flick of the wrist
G
Em
G
See the dirt? They under the shit I'm 30 Chase,
I'm paper related
G
Em
I stay fitted, money, cash, hoses,
G
my life, I swear I'm in it
Em
Finna shine like ice chips
on a Cartier face
Cm
Gettin' bread, smash ridin' like
Em
a whip with no brakes
Cm
I'm about pies and shapes, rods and tapes
Em
I throw with real niggas,
no squares and fakes
Cm
Fm
I'm in the streets and busters mad
Em
cause I'm stackin' them crisps
Cm
Makin' patients bite hard like
some deep -sea fish
need to wrap this dough
D#
Bb
up like mummies
Cm
Em
my kids need food in they tummies
Fm
When shit get real bad
and it ain't lookin' good for me
to get that cold cash money
need to wrap this dough
up like mummies
Gotta survive,
my kids need food in they tummies
Fm
When shit get real bad
and it ain't looking good for me
Cm
Fm
to get that cold cash money
Cm
Fm
Cm
Fm
Thank
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