Lyrics
Ayo, she like me 'cause I'm a rare nigga, breadwinner
Don't share with her, I ain't never been a caregiver
I tear levers with a hair trigger
The scope? Focus on this fame
Bitch, I'm trying to get a clear picture
Was there with ya, a spare with ya
With one hand, put the right to your head
Just like a pair of clippers
I walk in the room and hear whispers
Car so clean, when I drive this bitch, I like to wear slippers
I gave life to your chubby daughter, she brought me quarters
She showed me she loved me by sending money orders
Now our relationship, muddy waters
I learned this, if I treat her like shit, then she gon' love me harder
I'm on a different level than her
That's probably why I had an incredible run
My ex bitch called me, said she was done
Two years later, she pregnant by a regular bum
Always knew cheddar would come
Like two minus three, bitch
You was the negative one
Not to add to the fact, I went back in the trap
With a mag on my lap, getting bread in the slums
Nigga, this crack shit made us survivors
They gave us projects, that just made us able and wiser
When the work came, man, we ain't wait for the driver
Send a box to your house like the cable provider
Maid of honour, drove to San Diego for dollars
No five-star hotels, we stayed at Ramadas
You can aim for the top, or wait at the bottom
Either way, you gotta play it, money for the problems
Trust
Writer(s): Justin Christopher Harrell
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com