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Fake rappers, I don't fuck with them Bitch, I came in from a drug dealer Where I'm from, you really gotta clutch pistols If you play with my brother, get touched, nigga And the streets gave a nigga trust issues When you trappin', gotta keep a gun with you Gotta stay low, 'cause you never know, when the laws'll pull up and come get you I'm just thanking God I'm forever rich For my brothers, I swear I will never switch And your main man turned to a rat, shit, you ain't think he would ever snitch And the same bitch that you love, giving kiss and hugs, you ain't know she's devilish? Now you locked up in a cell, she fucking with the next man to stay relevant Now she stops picking up your Jail calls, but she's right there when you fresh out Shit, I guess her and dude fell out But your brother with you, he gon' tell it all Now, you mad at your bro, he put you on game, but what the fuck you mad about? You done picked a hoe over your bro, shit, that's the realest nigga you done had around I done came up from selling dime bags Where I'm from, young niggas die at When they asked if I signed to Sauce Walka, shit, hell yeah, I had to sign fast And my momma smoked crack, my daddy smoked crack and I had to live around that Man, that shit I seen at a young age really had a young nigga down bad I jumped right in them streets, yeah, I had to do it I robbing niggas, I was packing tools And the parents ain't want me around they kids, use to tell my granny, "I'm a bad influence" All rats gotta die, nigga, on my life, even Ratatouille SongtexteAnd everytime a Hurricane hit the hood, I was always trappin' through it AK, got a drum in that Get smoked or not, we gon' double back I done went from rocks to a brick, nigga, and then I turned a brick into a hundred racks Alot of demons in my head 'cause I left niggas dead, I think I'm stick with that And I got niggas who ain't coming back Pounds came in where the runners at Aus Songtexte Mania