Lyrics
La-look, one on one, I am unguardable
Niggas ain't picked the right play, I call it audible
No, I'm not a fan, fuck your movement
I want my pockets fat, overweight
Eating everything on my plate
Doing right and killing everything, no Drake
Nowadays rappers are fake
Everybody acting when the cameras be around, with the
White people smile but the tough guy actions
White guy accent, according to your actions
You're acting, I put that on the late Michael Jackson
No, this ain't a diss, this is a message
Now, sorry, if I'm coming off aggressive
When it comes to rap, I gotta snap
Praying for a stack with rubber bands, cash
They say I couldn't do it so I did, that
R.I.P. to Shawty Lo one time
R.I.P. Khalif Browder one time
If you see me running it's from one time
If anything matters, bitch, it's black lives
Back from the dead and I grew dreads
Outlaw thug life, bitch, that's my philosophy
SLUms NYC 'til my next life
Divorced the streets, that's my ex-wife
Suicidal doors, I'm screaming "Fuck life"
La-look
Yeah, I swear I see life kinda different
Your mind on the prize but your eyes where it isn't
These hands hold mics, not tickets
You don't got bread, nigga, you don't gotta sweat it
The niggas in the front is my witness
All my niggas gonna go, they don't even need permission
Headed to the goal, backstepping to the pivot
Nigga, I done seen the trenches, I done seen the rooftops
City type pretentious, they be humbled in a new spot
I ain't with the crown but it fitted like a tube sock
Split it if the Lug' pop
I've been out here playing with these niggas like a jukebox
Working out here, chasing, you'll be waiting 'til the nuke drop
And you kiddies stop acting like your truths not
From two fifty, going up, make the roof clog
And it brought a different pattern with my shoes stomp
And fake money ain't shit to the true guap
Cocoa run, make the lift do it's true job
I'ma run for the lick, I'ma move shop
I'ma jump for the spliff, I'ma jump
Writer(s): Michael Bonema
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