Outro

Fredo

We ain't them bad guys they say that we are A lot of bruddas want my shoes, they'll never make it this far I see snakes in the grass but I'm a lion in this ting He was talkin' hard and now his mum's cryin' in this ting Yo, I've been smokin' weed 'til I feel them feelings go A lot of people round me so why do I still feel alone? I ran my money up so high, these days I can't keep it low I used to see right through the lies, now I don't even know I'm hearin' all them rappers sayin', "Stay down 'til you make it" And preachin' silly shit like, "Grind 'til you shine" But in reality most people in life been grindin' for time And life don't never improve, it's like we grind to survive My first deal was for half a mill, at the time that was fine But next time I need a ten when I go sign on the line What you been doin' for your hands? 'Cause I'm providin' for mine The same man that used to plug me, I'm consignin' a nine I've been thinkin' 'bout Saint-Tropez, the third of July Story of my life, he speak and I ain't heard of the guy Yo them man there think bout hoes when I've got murder on mind Free Melo, free B.A., they're my surgical guys Now I don't care about the old days, who was runnin' the ends 'Cause they ain't do it like we done it man, them bruddas pretend If you're disrespect, we're comin', facts, it doesn't depend I buss my neck down, my wrist down and flooded the ends Joe just bought a four pack, I bet he's comin' again Them man got plain Rollies, these days that's nothin' to Fred Every six months I pay a Rollie cover in rent I done a grow view, got nicked for it then done one again Yo, they wanna talk but there's nothin' I can say to them Why they call him Gucci when his funeral at H&M? Cappin' on the net, that's some typical guys Man can trill you on the streets or with these lyrics of mine It was big fat racks a brudda had in my dreams But I didn't know where to find 'em, like my dad in my teens Yeah, we all suffer from sittin' 'round here, don't happen to sneeze Man got sick of bein' broke and called that trappin' disease Yeah, I've got girls flyin' from L.A., they're packin' for weeks Ten hour trips to fly across the world and go back on their knees Had the plain Rollie yesterday, I'm back on the freeze Bro's on his last three, goin' for Category D Life sentence, that's Category A We never had shit back in the day, but still miss back in the day Girl, you like me or you like me cause the fact that I'm paid? I used to know but now I can't cause all these racks in the way Nah, we ain't the same if you've been slapped in your face All that funny shit with feds to avoid catchin' a case You know it's war on the road, a man got clipped down on- Corn in his neck, that was awfully close Yo, they see what I do, they go copy after Got my younger shavin' heads, guess he's a proper barber Heat the nine up in the water then it's lockin' faster Fredo stays with them bits, I'm like some Tropicana They've been tryna drill me out but tell them niggas to stop 'Cause I don't reply to no drillers that ain't killin' their opps Blaze niggas up, know we do that for sure Shoot up the car like he's 2Pac Shakur

Written by: Marvin BaileyLyrics © Sentric Music, SENTRIC MUSICLyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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