Kill It

Yuh 'Cause I burn a boy like a do on (Ain't even in my lane, boy) Yuh, it must be 'cause I'm gettin' on It's like most of the ends don't get along But my money's on me, who you bettin' on? You can call me Young D or Teflon 'Cause I burn a boy like D on Stefflon Yeah I'm steppin' in, and I'm steppin' on And I'm steppin' out, and I'm gettin' done You know my mates, you know exactly who I get it from And the youngers know exactly who they get it from We the plugs and they know exactly who they get it from You ain't even in my lane, boy step along Blood, it's getting long 'Cause my gun is long, and my money long You're a funny don (funny don) I ain't fucking with no funny nigga Imma getting money don Huh, real niggas getting money, tryna build shit The game ain't a race, it's a marathon So I'm juggin' and I'm Yeah I'm chuggin' and I'm Get to whippin' and I Let it look and then I Get a shotty 'cause I'm a shotter Up and down, in and out the block-a Ain't no cap in my music Blood I said what I said, if the shoe fit Niggas wanna act like they're lost 'til I lose it Don't make me prove it ('cause I pull up in a-) What? 'Cause they got me in a booth on booth shit (got me in a booth shit) If my niggas don't slide, they ain't B, gon' pull up and shoot shit (gon' pull up and bye) Get nicked, go jail, tell the judge, "I just wanna do music" (I'm an artist) Twenty bags for my bail 'cause a nigga just wanna do music Yeah, it must be 'cause I get about, yeah Area boy and I'm steppin' out Yeah, you're still in the ends, I'm jettin' out Couldn't fill half the room, man's sellin' out Haven't even seen half the food, man's sellin' out But it's sellin' out, I ain't sellin' dunes, and I ain't sellin' clout And I ain't sellin' out This is C-Town, weapons out You know, get 'em down, get 'em down Did I lick 'em, did I? Did I rob 'em, did I? Did I jook 'em, did I? Did I shot 'em, did I? Yeah, it's all goin' on 'round here Can't even make a song 'round here So I don't need to drill rap, for him to feel that This is real rap I got PTSD, how the fuck they gon' heal that? And a lot of niggas dead for them niggas, don't feel that Want love from these streets, you ain't ever gon' feel that No love for police, I ain't never gon' feel that Didn't want me on the streets, or the beats But they want me in the jail like these neeks ('cause I pull up in a-) What? 'Cause they got me in a booth on booth shit (got me in a booth shit) If my niggas don't slide, they ain't B, gon' pull up and shoot shit (gon' pull up and bye) Get nicked, go jail, tell the judge, "I just wanna do music" (I'm an artist) Twenty bags for my bail 'cause a nigga just wanna do music