[Verse 1] They say I’m cold blooded, my flows are so rugged My icy demeanor's foul, the public they don't love it Cause I'm so hated, they say that I'm ungrateful That I made I cause my hunger ain’t fading from one plate full It does nothing for me puffing off the blunts I need two bitches nowadays to suck me off at once A couple fat stacks for blackjack I hit an old boo with my whole crew, black hoods and black hats Sushi on my chop sticks, Polo logos on my boxers Broken Prada frames on the Navigator floor Hockin' loogies out the door, I'm obnoxious Five figure watches, tell the kids not to watch this My rhythm is irate and my bitches are triple x I’m sick and bizarre, faded from liquor and hot-headed Sick in the head, isn’t he? I run the company damn it, I love misery
[Hook x2] Am I supposed to go and ask for a hand out? Or fall back and be shushed like I can’t shout Nah, I'ma get mine even if I gotta take yours This is my world, this is my war
[Verse 2] I'ma get mine, even if I gotta rob And I don’t listen to a boss, I don’t got a job Am I supposed to go and wait for a hand out? Why would I play the sideline? Homie, I stand out I got determination burning, you can't doubt I was told I wasn’t shit, I heard it straight from my aunt's mouth But is there any question what I’m capable of? I came straight from the hate and inescapable love I ran the streets late at night and learned the taste of the drugs Scraping with thugs, pacing a basement, I'm bugged But who I am to stop it, who are you to judge me? And who are they to hate me, who are you to love me? Shoot your guns, I pray to god that you shoot above me And miss me just slightly, look at my crisp Nikes What have I done? Look at my little son - He's just like me Son of a gun, whatever comes is a bit shiestyTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
