Brotha Man (feat. French Montana)

Brotha man Brotha, brotha Gotta fight for somethin' Stand for somethin' Brotha, understand (no) Gotta make the place Take the truth (take the) Get through Right Just keep the truth Fight the blues, fight the blues Brotha man, young man Let me tell you somethin' Young man, brotha man-brotha man You gotta fight for somethin' Stand for somethin' That's what the poem told me It was a greater poet than you know I'd rather talk about how my neck is frozen and I I'd rather talk about naked hoes and the stay up in the bitches? When I went to my bro Told him help me please Now we hop out the PJs Hosted by the P My old bitch yellin' come back Come back, come back, babe Come back Come back, come back Come back. come back, babe Harlem nights, quick speed, godspeed Speed it like Grease Lightnin', leather on my six-speed bike Bicycle tires, icicle diamonds, popsicle stripes Popsicles for the Klondikes, pop pop wheelies on the dirty bikes 15 sellin' china white Cops stoppin' if you opposite o' white Pop pop like you opposite o' right Take heat lil nigga Lowkey take lead on a nigga Smooth durag 'round the boulevard Back in the days on the train Ride the bus before I ride another nigga wave Beautiful, the water's flat like acid pre-Onika (ye-ah) You the smaller version, you the baby sneaker Flacko I wonder how it feel to live or be like you Album number three, and keep it G like Q Heard you niggas get fly, like G like 2 Nah more like 4, like 3, not 2 Shittin' on these niggas, like P like U Drip Raheem and Q Got Hi-C, like juice Mama hubby got life, he got three strikes too Real niggas bleed, like me, like you That's why I got a beam with a green light too I don't even make a scene, I just swing right through I'm just bangin' on my Qs and my Ps, like soup Walk in my shoes, follow me like suit Brotha man, young man Let me tell you somethin' Young man, brotha-brotha Gotta fight for somethin' Stand for somethin' Brotha, understand Gotta make the place Take the truth (take the) Get through Right? When I went to my bro Told him help me please Now we hop out the PJs Hosted by the P My old bitch yellin' come back Come back, come back, babe Come back (come back) Come back (come back) Come back (come back), babe You're a cornstar All you fuck is corn, parched You fall apart Frenchie faux pas 'Cause you Ain't gotta know pa (Are you?) The dealer got catches like an outfielder (Are you?-are you?-are you?) Getting that God's view from towers Lookin' down, like I'm Donald Trump