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作曲 : Dijon Mcfarlane/Bill Kapri/Sean Momberger/Larry Sanders/Paul Bender/Simon Mavin/Perrin Moss/Naomi Saalfield
Please believe me, me, me
Please believe me when I say
Mustard on the beat, ho
The streets got a **** scarred
A lil' nine, but unique, got a **** hard
Three kids, three baby mamas, now I want a wife
My mama told me, "Stop the killin', baby, now it's more life"
Prosecutor woman to leave the hood and get my mind right
Like, hell no, my **** still killin' when I'm out of sight
In a 'vert full of Percs, I'm just passin' through life
She know none of this shit luck, so I had to do it twice
Came through at the day party
Chrome on the Chevrolet, twenty-eights, scarlet
Now everything I do, I'm doin' for my shawty
Puttin' it up, a bitch say she want some money, I ain't got it
And with me, you either ride or you die
I ain't lyin', I am 'bout this right now
Real demon, you can see it in my eye
Since a youngin, had the projects on fire
Know they stabbed me in my back
And it went straight through my heart (Stabbed)
Took the knife out my back and I, mm
Took the knife out my heart and I chopped they head with it
Turned the betrayal to art and I made some bread with it
I kept it Z from the start and I brought the 'jects with me
Huh, guess I'ma be the one since ain't nobody else did it
Took a shroom in the bathroom
I dreamed of this on my desks in the classroom
I suited up like I'm Grammy-ready
Told my **** free the commissary necessary, uh
Said I was comin' home Neveruary
Sharpen up your knife 'cause that pen' life very scary
Police fights, I got nothin' comin'
Hit the club, let my bitch throw my money for me
Twenty-three with a 45
Overnight success, but it still took a long time
I got Mustard on the beat like a sandwich
It's holiday season, if you see me, don't pander
My son want a PlayStation, lil' cousin wanna bench
I'ma do what I know how, I'ma try and get him one of these mansions
They see the flexin', but what you know 'bout goin' missin'?
Scopin' and pokin', I got a show out on Christmas
All my decisions from everything, I had a witness
'Cause all my big cousins was always in and out of prison
Gang life, I learned how to make knives in penitentiary
Say and write everything I did for you, you still ain't hear me
The streets got a **** scarred
A lil' nine, but unique, got a **** hard
Three kids, three baby mamas, now I want a wife
My mama told me, "Stop the killin', baby, now it's more life"
Prosecutor woman to leave the hood and get my mind right
Like, hell no, my **** still killin' when I'm out of sight
In a 'vert full of Percs, I'm just passin' through life
She know none of this shit luck, so I had to do it twice
CDs, movies, movies, DVDs, two for five, five for ten, ten for twenty
Excuse me, can I get some spare change?
Does your auntie still sell food stamps?
We must wake up, brothers and sisters
We must realize real eyes see these real lies
****, **** all that, blood, I just want a bean pie, blood, come on, blood
Aye, cuh, let's go get a bottle, I'm tryna get active
Oh, she thick as ****, aye, aye, aye, check it out
Oh, uh-uh, boy, ain't nobody finna talk to your broke ass
Whatever, you rude-ass bitch, you in my set, though
I see the homegirls would **** you up
Look what's on the menu, The Marathon Continues, I got Nipsey t-shirts
Cuh, this ain't even got a Marathon tag, give me these t-shirts, ****
We caught an enemy, blood
Aye, put your Franklins on and rush blood
Ah, ain't nothin' like the smell of the ghetto
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