They let me out the pin I went and fucked on my bitch.
I ain't even use the rubber might've gave her a kid.
Grabbed my Nina from my cousin then I polished
it.
Got all these fake opps hiding behind politics.
Spin again and again like a repeat.
Fake opps they ain't never where the streets be.
Big guns I ain't lacking I keep heat.
I ain't see me a thing like i'm Stevie.
Shootouts close range I got ptsd from shooting clips empty.
Murder cases on me still pending.
Cold case if they ever re arrest me.
Playing with them hockey sticks Wayne Gretzky.
Fake opps always wanna play friendly.
They had me locked in prison the state petty
i always keep it on me i stay ready.
But why you talking bout a body you ain't catch.
Like you ain't never put no bullet where his brains at.
I kill a opp i don't care if we go way back.
A lot of guns over here cuz we make cash.
Two flushes every single time i took a shit.
What makes you think i wanna go and sit back in the pin.
I rather be laying in bed fucking on my bitch.
I rather be up in the studio recording hits.
Incriminate me with my music if i say it's true.
So i just say its entertainment when i'm in the booth.
I microwave him with the heat like a noodle soup.
Shooting guns had me in them jail cells and court rooms.
Spin again and again like a repeat.
Fake opps they ain't never where the streets be.
Big guns I ain't lacking I keep heat.
I ain't see me a thing like I'm Stevie.
Shootouts close range I got ptsd.
From shooting clips empty.
Murder cases on me still pending.
Cold case if they ever rearrest me.
Free mane free chaps free gunther.
I smoke a opp and put him six feet under.
I threw a lot of throw aways in the dumpster.
From all the times I hadda shoot a motherfucker.
And I ain't never called a truce I don't dead beef.
So when I die that's when I''ll start resting.
You play with me and get popped like Pepsi.
I'd rather the benjis over dead prezies.
And my pride got me stuck up in that street shit.
Cuz in the streets where they left my homie bleeding.
Ay I'll cook a opp up like a deep dish.
With this forty caliber when I squeeze it.
I'm selling drugs I got all the fiens tweaking.
It's looking like I need to re up by the weekend.
On the phone with my plug no English.
Ay all these undercover rats got me sleepless.
Spin again and again like a repeat.
Fake opps they ain't never where the streets be.
Big guns I ain't lacking I keep heat.
I ain't see me a thing like I'm Stevie.
Shootouts close range I got ptsd.
From shooting clips empty.
Murder cases on me still pending.
Cold case if they ever rearrest me.