Pound For Pound

I don't think, pound for pound

I don't think there's a more sincere

better guy in this fuckin' world than me

That did more for everybody

You could see-see what I got

you could see what I got compared to what other people got

And I can't believe what I read and what I hear

I don't know who this guy is they're talking about

Maybe somebody could introduce me to him someday

I don't believe 'em

I told Benny I got plenty

Machine, what up?

Mozzy, Gangland (I'm comin')

They treat us like pharaohs, AK with two barrels

Used to have a bitch sellin' pussy for me on a fare

In the middle of the candle, there's a twenty grand stack

Heat the glass, pull the wax out, and cut that bitch in half

Carbon paper 'round the paper, makin' fifty stack flimsy

Feelin' like a magazine, sendin' cash gets tricky

I'm bags not blicky, no smalls in the pack

When they froze the bank account, I thought I would fall back

I miss encro-chat, used to wipe my phone clean

Three times a week, different level to the stream

Throw a few Gs on each, I'm somewhere out of reach

When the phone loses service, I'll be back in town with heat

My old plug out in Maryland, got caught up with heroin

control by at the four-point Sheridan

Fuck a snitch, let 'em die slowly

Around here I'm the big homie, the top been lonely

Yeah, the opposition ain't no competition

Loaded chopper in this Honda Civic, I stand on top of business

It's sneak dissin' when you not specific

The DA gave that boy a deal, he turned it down, he's very optimistic

Perpetrator, baby, not the victim

We unforgiven when it come to trippin', it spit out double digits

You want this Pacquiao? Then come and get it

I put them boogers 'round my Granny Goose referrin' to this flooded image

It's hard to leave 'em when you love the trenches

Where was the love when I locked and you ain't come to visit?

They cracked the code, went through the phone and ain't find nothin' in it

You touch a ticket then you tuck a ticket

Tell 'em run the chicken, yeah

We money motivated, fuck these bitches

We pull up at back to back to back in all these younger Benzes

I never ratted, that's a fact, it ain't no smut on niggas

Said all this hustlin' got me up on niggas

What's up with niggas?

Street nigga since a young boy, knee-deep in the game

Cookin' up before school, school clothes reekin' of 'caine (whip)

Always keep it a hunnid, you better keep it the same

Niggas'll rest in peace you just for a small piece of my chain (a lil' bad)

Need to refrain from ever speakin' my name

Call my shooter, Method Man, one call, he bringin' the pain

Say they just your homeboys while police think you a gang

The people can't wait to hit you with RICO, think it's a game

And the feds applyin' pressure to the weakest link in your chain

Now listen to the weakened chief in a unbelievable strain (talk to 'em)

Say they shooters, believe you me, we do the same

Scopin' a beam on that mop, I'm just increasin' my aim, yeah

Nobody do it how we do it (uh-uh)

Educated, luxury, coke rap, street music

The impossible? You seen Machine do it

Made fifty off a thousand dollar pounds of mid, those the G-Units

Tell niggas, "Cut it out," they barely got heart (cut it out)

Tell 'em, "Cut it out," hoppin' out the coupe, gun butt 'em out

Throw 'em in the passenger, maybe it's the Porsche

Or the NSS Acura, let me be accurate

Money in the vacuum in a house made to clap at ya

Fuck about your shooter (what the fuck?)

Me? I got a homie that'll throw you off the roof

Vaycay in Aruba (that's fact), he could dog food uzi in a Uber

I been outside since Doug E. Fresh, Slick Rick the Ruler (all facts)

Violate? That's a shot to your medula, point-blank

I could run the point

Take my points, that's how point rank (that's how I rank)

Nevermind all this plug lingo (nevermind)

The Ringo, hellcat engine, I would have dubbed Nino

(I would have dubbed him)

If this was New Jack City

I would have shot him in the face

brought the crew back with me, yeah (you know)

From the first to the thirty-first

we outside doin' dirty work (we outside)

If you got it from the mud, you was dirty first

(The Butcher comin', nigga)

When this rap shit over, I at least need twenty out it, M's (atleast)

So I'ma need less friends and more money counters

Perfect life for who? That's what y'all think? (who?)

That's funny, how? 'Cause I'm stressed

I guess I just don't deal with no money problems (money ain't a problem)

How to make a million dollars? Guess I'm the perfect example of it

Well, streets guided this far, so how can't I love it? (How can't I?)

I used to take three hundred grams and cut it (yeah)

I trafficked strapped, pistol tucked down my belt line with a handle rubbin'

On my white boy shit at the Mandalay chuggin' beers (yup)

Brought a chip to my town like a Tampa Bay Buccaneer (Griselda)

Niggas say they 'bout to drop but got nothin' I wanna hear

Your first mistake was probably thinkin' I fuckin' care

They was out to get the squad but look at us now, it's too late

Alphabet garage, C-L-S, R-T, Q-8

"Fuck the streets, you a rapper," That's how my plug used to tell it to me

Fell out when I wanted a quarter-brick and he wouldn't sell it to me (sell it to me)

Fuck 'em (The Butcher comin', nigga)