Man, that's how I'm livin
Two for thirty five, I just come out the H
Hit it with Bolivia, a little lidocaine
Twenty seven ounces, three nine pieces, I'm shakin' back
My old hoe gon' fuck on the Sunday, can't wait for that
H town, no phenol, we dealin' that
Rumors hit my top every minute, I'm built for that
If I could pray there, I could stay there, I ain't scared of nothing
Your grandma stay there
You gon lay there, boy, you scared to hustle
Awh well, really yeah, name ringing bells
And my neighborhood supply just got out the feds
I'm pissing clean for my P.O., I'm a living legend
Straight out the clink, fuck every C.O. who encounter Kevin
White people showing love, niggas hating on me
Say they got a cake baked and they waiting on me
I went flat, had to scratch, women skated on me
I prayed five times a day, I had to talk to God
In Chicago, going hard, without a body guard
I'm in control and I'm controlling 'em, I'ma shot caller
Couple rappers, but they names I am not callin'
Y'all gotta pay up that lil lease, I'ma land lord
If you don't pay up what you owe, then I'ma stack for it
Rubber bands, comin' in, on command
Twenty seven ounces, three nine pieces, I'm shakin' back
My old hoe gon' fuck on the Sunday, can't wait for that
H town, no phenol, we dealin' that
Rumors hit my top every minute, I'm built for that
If I could pray there, I could stay there, I ain't scared of nothing
Your grandma stay there
You gon lay there, boy, you scared to hustle
Awh well, really yeah, name ringing bells
And my neighborhood supply just got out the feds
Say he broke the seal, can I put him back on feet?
And once he run it up, then he gonna put it back on me
He tell me all these things and get mad if I don't agree
Your habit stronger than your hustle, your hustle I don't believe
In jail I run into you, know I go in there like lump
Reason changed form, I thought we would stay in touch
Booty hit the line, when he call me I'm finna come
I'm jumping out the Rari, they think I don't gotta gun
Whats happening nigga?
Keep you something
If not, I could take you up town and read you something about a spot
I'm holding shop
When shop gettin' hell for me
You hanging by my trap, but you ain't ever sell nothing
Twenty seven ounces, three nine pieces, I'm shakin' back
My old hoe gon' fuck on the Sunday, can't wait for that
H town, no phenol, we dealin' that
Rumors hit my top every minute, I'm built for that
If I could pray there, I could stay there, I ain't scared of nothing
Your grandma stay there
You gon lay there, boy, you scared to hustle
Awh well, really yeah, name ringing bells
And my neighborhood supply just got out the feds
Writer(s): Ricardo Toussaint, Marcellus Gates
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