Текст песни
Straight from a place not hard to find mechanics
Niggas wit tools wit wrenches like they Hispanic
Five black babies, one mother is hard to Manage
Screaming fuck that nigga my father just brought damage
Hard manipulation got a nigga Stuck in they sith ways
Bring a two shot I'm ripping right through his rib cage
Nigga's never working They're constantly calling sick days
Chillin in the crib Eating brownies ya bitch made
Watch ya fucking mouth my nigga before you Doubt us
We gon
We gon take this shit from the Ground up
Selling from the street young Padawan they allowed us
Heavy fucking heads I was spitting to keep a frown up
Sag child I pray that he don't trip
Brotha on the block I pray that he don't slip
If you got that heater on you I pray that you don't miss
Rest in peace the blaster my saber gon raw in
For that bag nigga
Yha I'm coming for that bag nigga
Yha I'm coming for that bag nigga
Yha I'm coming for that bag nigga
My brotha put me on wu tang
Grabbing at rhymes or bags I had the mode swangs
Yha I sent the location knowing where where dude hang
Yo niggas talking shit before that gon thangs
Cleaning up the kitchen scrubbing shit wit the Pinesol
Teacher like Qui-Gon Jin told me to write songs
That ain't put food on the table or turn the lights on
Yha a nigga need that real blue strip whether this shit right wrong