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COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jacob Hurd
Jacob Hurd
Songwriter
Obie Trice III
Obie Trice III
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Sentury Status
Sentury Status
Producer

Lyrics

I'm feelin' like a nigga up in shackles I wanna be free, but this bitch keep handcuffin Me Every time Obi leaves, she's pullin' my sleeve Sayin' Obi deceived, he don't believe But baby girl, I just wanna be free Tired of bein' home for ya ass before three When you're not pleasin' me Dirty up your knees and blow some trees You rollin' with a G, baby Welcome to the madness, slept on couches, fuck a mattress Comin' from the dirt, now I'm surrounded by the cabbage Thoughts of livin' lavish when the time is done passin' But in the meantime, I'ma really let em' have it Really come from nothin', double check inside the pantry Oops, I meant the cabinet, and I ain't lookin' back When I'm shootin' right past em', never one for average Find a better father, visionary, or a rapper Ten plus in this game, I stepped away, now I'm backin Put me in position just to pop em' with a back fist Yeah, I hear the talkin', but it's backed with no action So I just let em' talk while I count up on the back end Independent grind, and his broad call me captain Smoke turn fire, but y'all lackin' the traction Faker than plastic, take J, couldn't happen Laugh now, die later, bitch, I'm still laughin Time to get manic, you can't knock me out my plans, bitch I'd rather punch a damn brick or swim through Titanic My thoughts are so organic, when I'm focused, I'm the man But when it's slowed up, got a plan, won't ever throw a towel again Just leave em' floatin' in the wind, nah, the show will never end A rollercoaster's what I live, right now I'm lost up in the hills But they don't care about how you feel, I'm just speakin' on the real Seen it all, just keep concealed, all that beef gon' get you grilled Heart on ice so we can chill, bitch, I'm past a decent skill I can eat the beat for real, call me boss, I foot the bill Got no key, I grab the drill, they lock me out the game Sayin' they shit flame, but I'm nappin' still Got no mass appeal, lackin' skill, half a brain And a half a deal, I only split my change with the kids I raise Bitch, I'm blessed, what can I say Before I'm splittin' a check, I'll be diggin' my grave But I make it for two, for ones who get in my way Cause my shit dope, y'all just servin' them shake Bet my shit hang when I show up late Keep the politics bitch, yeah, it's no debate I take em' all on like it's open weight Then I take em' all down like I was born for state Torn with hate, till enormous age A lot of days it takes to form this rage But I could let it all release and just destroy your face Don't bro me, not your homie Only a few ones who really know me A lot's of claims, but they ain't showin All this shit they claim I owe em' Fuck em' all, I just keep holdin He keep bluffin', I'ma fold em Get em' rolled up, we gon' smoke em Bet these chains is gettin' broken You ain't shinin', bitch, I'm chosen Let it flash, they get to posin' Hang em' up just like a poster They hate me and I know it They can't hide the shit it's showin I stalk em' like a poacher, ayy I hit the booth, I go bipolar Should I freeze em', should I toast em' Three-peat em' like I'm Kobe, ayy They don't need me, then I ghost em Bitch, I'm Casper to these hoes, man
Writer(s): Obie Trice Iii Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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