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    [Intro]
    Yeah, Dj Clue?
    To all the killers and the hundred-dollar billers
    Ha-ha, to real niggas who ain't go no feelings
    Check it out now, yeah

    [Verse 1]
    You got to fuck with my realness
    I'm sick with it like I'm stuck with a illness
    It ain't luck that I'm still rich
    Just more reason for me to tuck and conceal this
    Your boy might have to hit a fuck-nigga kill switch
    Snap right back to me standin' in the projects
    Bakin' soda, boxes son handin' me the Pyrex
    We was small then, but the plan was to be
    The world is yours plan, but, man, I need that Nas Lex
    Sc 400, that's all your boy wanted
    And the light-skinned shorty
    from next door that's frontin'
    She couldn't see that I was that next boy or somethin'
    Maybe I just needed to flex more or somethin'
    Now I hit that fuckin' Rolex store for nothin'
    And I could teach niggas, give lectures on stuntin'
    And if I need a bitch, I could text yours or somethin'
    Then she don't see me the next tour tour or somethin'
    Shit crazy right, imagine me when I was twenty-three
    Ridin' through Brooklyn, realizin' it's only one of me
    Notice that I'm who the wannabes want to be
    It feelin' like all of y'all don't want none of me
    In this kitchen, step back and watch the chef cook
    My corner told me, "Counter jabs with a left hook"
    And give me mine, you don't want to see my stress look
    I drive through with the mask, lookin' like Westbrook
    Cash me out, for the twenty Gs I'm in there
    Now multiply it by how many times I been here
    Forty Gs for the show with the in-ears
    Dog, I ain't hit a Atm in ten years
    There's a difference in gettin' money and got money
    I'm just a winner with a pocket full of pot money
    I ain't judgin', baby, go and get that thot money
    You better stay for a rainy day when it's not sunny
    You know niggas change just like the weather
    Get in one argument and just like, "Whatever"
    Meet a new bitch who look just like whoever
    People sayin', "Wasn't they just, like, together? "
    My bitch ass feel so soft just like my leather
    Got a good head on her, I just like 'em clever
    This life forever, fuck the lame, mad shit
    You wouldn't look this good in the same-ass fit
    I'll give it to you niggas on some Aim Blast shit
    Then give it to your sons on some Dame Dash shit, boy
    You niggas ain't bosses anyway
    A nine-to-five beat a ten-to-life any day

    [Hook]
    Get your money cause ain't no thing as halfway crooks
    You scared to death, you scared to look
    You shook cause ain't no thing as halfway crooks
    You scared to death, you scared to look
    You shook cause ain't no thing as halfway crooks
    You scared to death, you scared to look
    You shook cause ain't no thing as halfway crooks

    Letra enviada por Playlists Do Vagalume
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