The Chang - Nef The Pharaoh

Yeah, it’s the truth, though

This nigga, ah, hell no

(I love you, Killa Bo)

I know you do (Ah, that’s some bull—)

Bitch

(Ayy, Bayzilian, you make this beat?)

You better keep your composure if them people on you

And if you see a skit, don’t get to speakin' on it

It’s over fifty in this chop, I be tweakin' on it

My cousin fuckin' with a sucker, I don’t speak to brodie

When I lost Lil Joc, it made me wanna cry

I wanna hit them niggas' block and have a fish fry

Double F still untouched, fuck the other side

I know my brother up there lit, it was a red sky

I feel the Lord been testin' me, but my patience small

I still got time 'cause I know he got some blessings involved

Key my brother, I pick up the phone whenever he call

Touch one of my dawgs, a nigga gettin' the paws

Bitch, we’ll beat your block like six-fifteens

My daddy was on the stove cookin' cream, no wheat

I was on the road for way more than a week

So much money, had to FedEx it back to the V

(We didn’t even fuck, so what’s the point?)

No, I’m not gonna, I’m just gonna spit and act like I’m fuckin' him (No)

He still gonna think like I’m, it’s in the vagina

I send her like a boomerang, she come back to a P

And she don’t never try to tell, guess it’s the mackin' in me

Tryna speak to the youth with my voice on the flutes

Teach 'em 'bout some property, go buy a house or two

I’m more dapper than Dan, hats off to dude

I made her pussy get wet, she’s not off the lube

I made a hundred thousand dollars all off the Tube

And I still get slices from Apple too

His wordplay make nerds say, «He like Dre»

She threw up off a Perc-10, fuckin' lightweight

Suckers buyin' it, I’m startin' not to like Bape

Y’all niggas wearin' y’all bitch clothes, it’s a drag race

I got a Nike shoebox, never had Chase

Ask my kids 'bout they pops, bitch, they dad great

Niggas broke and on dope, I cannot relate

I’m a P-I-M-P, I am not your date

I’ma get the fur on, make the whole world do pills

My mama with the shit, she know her baby boy doin' drills

Floyd Mayweather, I don’t read the price for real

He was givin' off narc vibes, it is not a deal

Blap Dre told me back up and let the beat breathe

Make a ho work, work, work, work, RiRi

When an iPhone chirp the only time I get a tweet

You hang out with nerds and Topflight security

I can still go, I ain’t ran out of shit yet

Lost my dawg to the system, fuck the vet

I keep surprisin' bitches like, «What's next?»

Sleep is for the weakest, I don’t get rest

I got Hi-Chew weed that’ll hurt your lil' chest

I don’t plan on dyin' young, I ain’t wrote a will yet

I got money stacked up for my babies, on the set

So if I ever leave this bitch, my loved ones gon' be set, ugh