Fire in the Booth, Pt. 2 - Fredo

He still switched up, now ha-ha, look at him

Your chances are like your gym pics, boy

They're lookin' slim, that's the problem with niggas

They stick to somethin' for six months maximum, and think they put it in, but they're funny

Craig told me eighty grand for Wireless, I told him, "Book it in" (he's heatin' up)

See my baddie when she rocks the furs

Drive the man who wrote the dictionary, lost for words

But fuck all that, what's the word? I'm outside, I'm on the curb

Bossed up, roll in Novikov when it's not reserved

I bet they gettin' table ready

I bet they're get serious if boys try and play with Freddie

I bet that I drop three projects in a year, and put all of my problems in the rear

Time to focus on my career, the people that I love

Had an argument with Blacks, 'cause he won't stick to the facts

He's never shot no-one, he's known for takin' pictures with straps

Bet if I didn't play my role, they'll say I ain't real

But you ain't real, what you done for me, what I gotta do for you?

'Cause I make mils, but look how many niggas claim to be drillas

And ain't drilled, and ain't killed

Why niggas watchin' King? Niggas only watchin' King

'Cause they ain't got a thing, wish Billy was here

What's Pie gonna do if I get at him? Not a thing (he's on fire)

So little clowns, better watch out where you're gossipin'

In whatever girl's house, nigga's car, what block you're in

I don't care if we grew up, I can promise this

We're no longer kids, so if you disrespect, you're on the list

Niggas got no goals, they never came to me with business plans, only askin' for bricks

These times your phone's doin' like half of a zip

Not to mention all them pricks that came and asked me for sticks, and didn't slide out

'Cause now they come and ask me for whips

Let me advance you with this

If you askin' for shit, no, the answer is this

'Cause when I needed niggas help, I couldn't ask him for his

Free Big Ark, the feds just took the last of my nigs'

And they askin' for Trigz

But he ain't droppin' no more songs, just gotta charge with the pigs

They wanna give him eight years, but he'll be askin' for six

Strike four, this shit gets as dark as my tints

I can't see the sun no more, they put the 'Zart on the clips (woo, woo)

It's easy to die, it's harder to live (yeah)

It's easy to take, it's harder to give (mm)

It's easy to make, it's harder to keep (yeah)

It's easy awake, it's harder to sleep

Man like Fredo (come on)

We back

We back (back, bro)

Fire In The Booth

Sheesh