Music Video

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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Styles P
Styles P
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Golz, Frederick K./Little, Donnelle/Lunnon, Loren/David Styles/Treacy, Sean C.
Golz, Frederick K./Little, Donnelle/Lunnon, Loren/David Styles/Treacy, Sean C.
Composer

Lyrics

Lot of people mad I ain't dead yet S.P. comin through your speakers and headsets Streets is in the buildin whenever the Ghost in it I remember cereal boxes with roaches in it I'm a double G, that's a gangster and gentleman Humble was nights I been homeless, cold and tremblin You don't wanna touch me, can't hold no grem-lin Gargoyle like Chow Yun, Fat in "Hard Boiled" Better stay away cause I'm toxic, hoch spit Right in your face and bang you out like the moshpit Heard I put in the work, it wasn't no gossip The man with the plan so you know that the plot thick Clip on reserve for whoever deserve I swear to God, that's my word that I'm off of the curve So you should know I'm in it to win it If it start with a 3-M with an A that meant to spin it I like European cars and I'm into the spinach Fuck around, you won't even get to finish the minute Cause, it could be over in two seconds with two weapons Think I really care about whatever your crew reppin? I'm in it to win it, you motherfuckers ain't pay no dues I dare you walk a, day in my shoes I'm in it to win it, I'm on a strip tryin to move these bricks But the streets won't let me quit I'm in it to win it, you best believe I'm on my grind You feel my pain in every verse and line I'm in it to win it, years end and I'm still goin hard bitch Knowin that these rappers is garbage I'm in it to win it Uhh, yes I is the best I is Go hard like that Bedstuy kid; nigga I'm in it to win it Momma said be the best I is I burn shit down, just like Left Eye did Uhh, the game don't stop, the pain don't stop Bullets rip through his skull like a Drano shot Got a strip for me to eat on, P name the spot I take aim at any nigga (who?) name or not For my hand-to-hand niggaz, five gram niggaz Blam-blam niggaz, you know who it is - Bully bitch! Gun ready for any nigga who want it Slam me? I don't think so, I'm fo' hundred (ha ha) Yeah, I'm sittin in my Phantom Nah I'm lyin, I'm hustlin, tryin to get a Phantom You don't really understand him Five-star general, ten-hut; nigga get your face cut I do the knowledge if the cypher work But ask the homie that the knife insert, what life is worth When his heart pumps slow and his blood that he burp And it's all type of shit on his shirt And his girl and his mom look hurt And he thinkin 'bout his seed but he layin in the hospital, Leavin the Earth They say real men pray for they enemies Forgive but don't forget so I don't slip when I'm drunk off Hennessy Blame that all ridiculous Hoody'd up, in the cut, inconspicuous Nina gon' burn them boys just like syphillis Cross me, I'm a show 'em all what trippin is The difference is, I'm a real G don't wanna make no noise Got a conscience, to really wanna take them boys To a place they never been or go again You could blame the wind cause look what it's blowin in S.P. the Ghost, here we go again, know that I'm goin in You ain't doin nothin but goin out My gun's like a candle, who dare me to blow it out? All these rappers garbage, who want me to throw 'em out? What? I'm in it to win it I'm in it to win it I'm in it to win it
Writer(s): Greg Kurstin, Shaznay Lewis Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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