(+) Black Pistol Fire - "Speak of the Devil"
Woo
I'm a maniac go crazy for the cash
Green lamborghini paper tags
Ridin' through the city 30 mags
Niggas snitchin' they the police with no badge
How I grew up my momma was my dad
So when I blew up I put her in a pad
I like to throw up when I think about the crash
Not playin' when I hit the tree I smell the gas
Lookin' at the sky think about my past
When I used to kick the door
Shoot you for the cash
Everybody hit the floor 'fore you make me mad
Devil had a nigga soul livin' too fast
Prayin' to the lord my soul to keep
Controllin' me take a hold of me
Bitches ain't shit got exposed by e
So naive cold in the streets
Sleep on my feet
Money turn homies to zombies they eat
Miss my grandma she was humble and sweet
I don't speak let the check talk for me
I can't sleep 'less the tec in my reach
Hit the dope make me choke
Make me wheeze
Sip the dope help the pain at ease
Tryna get the money 'fore it clean it was dirty
Playin' football hide the fire in my girdle
Gettin' locked up runnin' round in a circle
Brother caught fifteen like he did a murder
Now my whole family hurtin'
Tryna see the light
But we couldn't pull the curtain
Night time lurkin'
Momma said the streetlights 'bout
To stop workin'
Lookin' at my momma in her eyes
Lookin' at me like a new person
She tellin' me I need to slow down
The pain don't go away with the percy
That was when the rap wasn't working
Living in the trap it's a circus
See my grandma in a hearse
And pistol p gone in the casket
Shot's fired nigga blasting
Cops they arrive start smashing
Opps we shoot shots like the mavericks
Vaults put the cash up and we stash it
You flop we doing numbers can't imagine
Money tunnel when the roof panoramic
Count the bundles 'til my hand start crampin'
I come with the drip I need a napkin
I'm a maniac go crazy for the cash
Green lamborghini paper tags
Ridin' through the city 30 mags
Niggas snitchin' they the police with no badge
How I grew up my momma was my dad
So when I blew up I put her in a pad
I like to throw up when I think about the crash
Not playin' when I hit the tree I smell the gas
Lookin' at the sky think about my past
When I used to kick the door
Shoot you for the cash
Everybody hit the floor 'fore you make me mad
Devil had a nigga soul livin' too fast
Prayin' to the lord my soul to keep
Controllin' me take a hold of me
Bitches ain't shit got exposed by heat
So naive cold in the streets
I been crossed out by my own brother
Ain't no rules in the street don't trust 'em
Ran it up and I had to go and bust it
Police 'bout to kick the door
Now we gotta flush it
Ridin' on the backstreets
Thinkin' 'bout my brother
Prayin' that he come home to his loving mother
Can't believe it that I got it all out the gutter
Facetime 'round three mike in a puddle
How am I 'posed to take it?
Niggas dyin' 'round the same time I had a baby
Here go the operator
Let the gang know pistol ain't 'gon make it
Now my mind going brazy
Got me feeling like
I was the cause of the hatred
Holdin' the revolver with the laser
They done killed my nigga
Start the war bring the nation
I got a boss situation
Military basis when we travel 'cross the nation
Double up the cup with maple
Abomination on your paper I got acres
Black man when you walking and you labeled
Beat the odds
They don't wanna see you greater
Eat you alive like a lion or a 'gator
Mommas crying
Cause the police shot they babies
They crooked the motherland
They done took it
They take us and lock us up
And throw the booklet
Started rapping then I shook it
I hate the fame everybody keep on looking
We done sold out brooklyn
Man I miss my grandma cookin'
Treat me like a don 'cause I'm gifted
I'm a run the money up gotta go and get it
I'm a maniac go crazy for the cash
Green lamborghini paper tags
Ridin' through the city 30 mags
Niggas snitchin' they the police with no badge
How I grew up my momma was my dad
So when I blew up I put her in a pad
I like to throw up when I think about the crash
Not playin' when I hit the tree I smell the gas
Lookin' at the sky think about my past
When I used to kick the door
Shoot you for the cash
Everybody hit the floor 'fore you make me mad
Devil had a nigga soul livin' too fast
Prayin' to the lord my soul to keep
Controllin' me take a hold of me
Bitches ain't shit got exposed by heat
So naive cold in the streets