| God forgive me, I’m a sinner |
| License plate reader, pray this contraption block the signal |
| Built a case on me, nigga, but bullets did not get delivered |
| Face (Brrt) my signature, envelope returned to sender |
| Thirty-two out the magazine, MAC-11, I quit feelin' |
| Dealers back, whole team, they wish death on me, I could feel it |
| Whole unit, held nuts on me, talkin' 'bout me to they bitches |
| Whole unit went duck on me, when it’s up, I’m in the trenches |
| Me and Straw, great Monte Carlo, windows tinted, mind your business |
| When it’s unimportant to you, you don’t even give it mention |
| Keep my name in his penis eater, he must be in his feelings |
| Luca Brasi big general, reachin' blocks through my lieutenants |
| Set the tone, in the interview, they tune in and say it’s healing |
| Well, it cheese me, Allah be pleased, I just said a prayer for killin' |
| Old friend, big brother snitchin' and he ain’t get him injured |
| Before you speak on me, look, please go find me them two niggas |
| Find me one who stuck dick in me, or the one I sent to prison |
| Jail catcher, smell like fingernail polish when it (Grrt) |
| Paramedics, yeah, put the yellow tape around the trap |
| When we was children, to much cup, we accidentally caught a hack |
| Told my uncle, no more fastlane, he told me you’ll be back |
| He told me you ain’t commit murder and then went and did that to his self |
| Coco-cola, soda bath, yoga class to make you stretch |
| My conscious be messin' with me, make me think I need some help |
| Hmm, just turned on the digi, in the kitchen by myself |
| Self-made, stand up |
| You ain’t got two hats under your belt, then pick your pants up |
| Zips up in the can, I know how to get (Grrt), off of handcuffs |
| Callin' home to move about me 'cause I don’t harbor no cowards |
| X’d out one of my partners 'cause he don’t keep it a thousand |
| Used to share each others clothes, local products of public housing |
| Only rock with the real, really, solo how I be rockin' |
| One day I prayed to God, to send me beaucoup bricks of powder |
| Taught us snorters nice and taller |
| Boilin' water, I got power |
| Two black eyes, a broken nose, when I had focus, I got crowded |
| Nowadays, for he who try, catch your mama upside down |
| Graduated to Waffle House, back then, it used to be McDonalds |
| Hmm, created recreations, peep the cop in polo collars |
| Hmm, drop the ballcap, pull up, park the whip, hop out it |
| Monster status, silverback, you go to yards under the towers |
| Long as I’m here, make sure Mucho and Mazi still receive they flowers |
| After this, might send a blitz, go talk to God and take a shower |