Loosies With Matches

Buckroll

Really that, though

Yeah

Middle of the trenches with my shine on

I'm the one they lied on, nobody to rely on (Nobody)

Took it from them park benches we was gettin' high on

Seen the 40 blow somebody stomach off and leave his side gone

Like why you think I got this fire on me? (Like why?)

Playin' with the kid from in the crib, I get it firebombed

Evil thoughts that I been thinkin' of late. yeah

It's hard to eat when they ask for everything on my plate, wait

I know they couldn't stomach the hustle, nah

The mental fortitude and the muscle, they don't know what it take

OG Jack really seen me bust my pistol in traffic

Back when I smoked mids and matched it, and lit up loosies with matches

Lay in the crib without a mattress, roaches crawlin' around

I'm tryna get somebody slain while I'm watchin' the town

White powder in the field, I used to pitch like a mound

They charged brodie with the shit that they found, he got a life sentence

Ninth inning, sometimes, I be feeling like my life ending

Even though I'm in this rap game with fancy cars and nice women

Miami trips, white linen, racks on overpriced denim

Spirit of Ecstasy on the emblem, that's a Double-R

Yeah, that's why you gotta understand, I'll never take this for granted

Because I remember what it's like to not have it

I still know what it's like for people to doubt you

I'm still fightin' every day actively for me and mines

You gotta have courage just walkin' out the door in the morning

Because you know dudes'll kill you for this dream that you tryna obtain

That same success you're chasin' after, someone'll murder you for it

Never forget that shit

Yeah

My mama think I'm trippin', honor my commitment

They gon' put it on the news if them suckers catch me slippin'

Paid security, but I only trust myself, so I'm grippin'

I ain't work out in a minute, this lil' FN'll lift 'em, yeah

Sometimes, this rap shit be feelin' like Iraq shit

Covert mission just so we could get the bag shit

Promoters, they could line you up, different city, hide the bucks

That's why I hate the Sprinter vans, too many stuck, that shit'll jam

R.I.P. to Pop Smoke, R.I.P. to Nipsey too

R.I.P. to Dolph, Trouble, MO3, Lil Snupe

R.I.P. to King Von, Drakeo the Ruler

Drakeo the Ruler

R.I.P. to PnB, I'm slidin' 'round with my shooter

I'm slidin' 'round with my shooter

Every city, it get treacherous, no matter where, they stretchin' shit

No matter where you at

Shit get spooky like The Exorcist

But I'm still runnin' 'round with all my necklaces

Without a vest and shit

Multimillion-dollar brand, you know I'd die just to protect this shit, it's Blanco

Shit, I got homies doin' life sentences, natural life sentences

And I got homies facin' twenty years at the moment

That's the environment I'm comin' from

All I ever tried to do was flip that around with this music

And try to make a better way for us

I never said I was a role model, I know I'm not perfect

But I'm way better than I used to be

At this life thing, that's all I'm tryna teach

To my youngins and to everyone around me

I'm just tryna create a better path