Thru Da Hook 3

I went from opening books to opening shows that are booked,

Now opening doors opponents had tried to close but my foot was blockin the way,

Stay wit a heater, not a duvet

If you want me to lose then dont hold your breath will not be today,

I'm hot get away

I got more classics locked in the safe,

They poppin it but they not really there like Pac on the stage,

I started the wave then they get on records copy and paste,

I cock it and aim if just to defend my dog or my name,

I ball wit a team legends i think we all hall of fame,

If i fall then they pullin techs it look like we stallin the game,

I'm

Still feelin raw from the pain,

So used to sparkin & drinkin that now it all feel the same,

I gotta look inna mirror cus way too often i blame,

My issues on what i lost and don't give a thought what I gained,

The crib got marble estates and the shower fall like it's rain,

I gotta keep up the streak cus my bro a monster like Kane,

And i stay wit bro like Thanassis,

You niggas tragic,

Gettin sick of the tough acting I think they need tinactin,

I'm makin gold like its magic,

You sick like magic,

Know some niggas love tv dinners they just peelin back shit,

As a kid I couldn't imagine now the feeling tragic,

Way them niggas is really shooting it get cinematic,

Can i send a medic?

The right answer don't care who said it

I can't regret if i brand these weapons until I can't see heaven

He put the sticks down cus the band too deadly,

When them niggas steppin wit them drums and walk down they ain't two steppin,

I pray to severe these ties that I got,

Hands together like im signed to the roc,

Her name i kinda forgot

But she gave me brain and what a mind that she got,

I got the stainless like some kinda chef I

Guess all we got left is time,

It's kinda awkward how we still next in line,

We jabbawockeez how my bro step and slide,

That's if you won't step aside,

You Peter Parker get on the web and lie,

We play wit sticks like Travis barker if you come threaten mines,

Let's make the right decision,

Pocket full of dead's my type of living,

I should repeat what you said but I ain't that type of nigga,

I been fighting winters since, high waters and light suspenders,

If I write these feelings before im gone then they might just get it,

This life I witness and share with yall kinda like a critic,

Used to hide the civic, when shorties came for a night of stickin,

Now im on a mission the pots is wit me it's not the kitchen