Lyrics

, time goes by, puffing on lie, hopping that it gets me by, got a nigga going crazy, we call this on e ventilation, some niggas wanted to kill me, got locked up and never found me so my goal is to catch a charge in that same county, picture me getting bumped for a silly hand off, the bullpens fucked up just as willie randolph see, i could pop a few nickel plated glocks to, it's easier to kill niggas than it is not to, i let the pot grew, then the plot grew, it the labels job to label you don't fit it and they'll drop you, finally made a move on something i been saw, sometimes you got to lose the fight if you trying to win the war, i'm focused on tomorrow, i'm done seeing my friends in the rearview thing we really closer than we are, fuck the record label, no relation or correlation all my admiration just turned aggravation they say, how you sit so long when you spew classics?, i tell niggas i can't understand it "that's blue magic", the rap game as is either you on some snap shit, or plan ol' stuck in a different decade like the brat is, i hear niggas joints and take it personal why, now everybody want to spit about their personal lives, before that was none existent, me i'm an addict with an addition for anything that seems to cause friction, maybe i'm in a relationship with bad karma, what her past the somber maybe i attract drama yeah, undoubtedly my life is on some vh1 shit, just adding some salt and pepper to reality while, other artistes is obsessed with more toys, like lex, coup, beemers, and benz's there lost boys, un i kept brushing off my shoulder till the chip was going, left the benz at the dealers till the kit was on, i don't feel niggas songs, so while ya'll at the awards i'm loading up on ratches that's the tip i'm on, flow is on acid i swear i would have the game mastered if i wasn't so busy carrying baggage, calling god a bastard, calvin look way different in person then they had him looking in his casket, i'm looking in his casket like he had no face, i was at a lost for words like fiasco gate, so i figured i say a prayer for em got on my knees quick, and realized "i don't ever pray until i need shit", my soul akin trying to stay low maintains, i'm stuck in hell waiting on blessing with no patience, i done made the ave hot, been had as stab shot, waiting on my jackpot, always been a have not, always been an under dog little guy still try, cause i think i'm a cash cow they treat me like i'm milk dry, juggling nickels and dime i'm walking a fine line, sometimes you got to just breath maybe give time, time, give me a sign kind of shock he won't, see i want another baby but my pockets don't, normally that wouldn't bother me, till i wake up and get the paper and read some rich nigga won the lottery, young black and shameless, shorty keep beefing about the same shit almost like yelling her second language, why do i entertain it, listen we been arguing about everything for ages do it ever change shit, wind up igging each other for the whole week, it's a lot of men in this world baby you chose me like i chose you, we been rocking for years you signed up your not a victim you're a volunteer it weird, not a cheater on occasion still fuck a bitch, who knows why maybe just to be covered, i'm me she her we both had enough of it but won't leave, we the only ones who put up with it, in all areas its like my stocks crashing, wishing all these old motherfuckers would stop rapping, trying to be tasteful, not mad or hateful

Song details

Artist: joe budden