Rap Game Outro

Oi, Little B, remember when them niggas tried to shoot at my car But them niggas missed Free all my on-it opps 'cause them niggas missed Rest in peace NB, 'cause that nigga's missed YB too, I ain't forgot you, I got you on my ink Rest in peace Rick, we weren't like that, but you showed me love Nothin' like them weirdo niggas, always switchin' up Rest in peace Kamari, I ain't seen you in a hundred months Before I rest in peace, I'm tryna give a hundred to my mum That's for all the times you ran up in my room and found some drugs And I had no excuse because I was tryna run it up The same niggas sayin' that it's war, I got them runnin' off Used to look up to you, dumbest thing I've ever done Dumbest thing I've ever did You ain't even sellin' bricks Really, I'm just sellin' packs, supporters wanna hear me rap Nanny used to lecture me often, "Stop sellin' crack" I was in the traphouse when I heard she's never comin' back Most my paigons shook on their block, tryna see what's good And we ain't even ridin, we're just passin through the neighbourhood And I won't squash beef with them, even if they say I should And I ain't goin' broke again, furthermore, I never could My mum knows I've got beef, be careful when you're on street Fine in the bando, then I'm probably up on Ox Street How you switch up on me when we used to roll deep My flicky does lean, come like I dipped it in some Codeine Got a show, but my niggas dead This ain't how it's supposed to be From the age of four, five, my nigga used to roll with me To house parties every week, my nigga used to roll with me To slidin' on them opp boys, my nigga used to roll with me Got a wetter on me, and a hitter that still rolls with me My manager a savage, better watch how you're approachin' me A rack for this jacket, servin' shots without a racket Couple stacks for this hand thing, know yourself before I slap it My auntie don't like when I rap about gang shit, trap shit, bad shit She thinks I'm not a bad kid Bando bandit, my outfit cost about six I never used to have six, I never used to have racks I never used to sell B, I never used to have crack I never used to Christian Dior with a top to match I never used to have fake friends, well, nah, I did I never knew they were fake like frontal wigs Niggas doin' music, but they're rappin' shit they never did I'm always showin' prints, but I'm not cappin' when I rap my shit Don't know if this is weird to say But I wish I could trade my dead friends With certain niggas that are here today My bro finessed my other bro Now, they don't roll as friends I gotta go to the grave just to see my closest friend I write on my iPhone, I don't need a closest pen I got court tomorrow Pray that they don't send me to the closest penn' Got love for couple olders that I know, that's a shockin' fact None of them taught me how to cook coke or cock it back Used to hit shots out my yard like my mum comin' back Used to hit shots like there weren't such thing as the can Kiko told me, "Pattern up, you're movin' bait, you're movin' nuts" He's younger than me, but I learnt so much from him, it's fucked Blood don't mean nothin', loyalty, that's what's really up Blood makes you related, but I feel like I'm his mother's son I hate when feds come in my drum, tryna search for guns I know I failed all of my exams, but I'm not that dumb Tell them that I'm not the one, not number two, I'm number one Number one