How You Feel

Alright, alright, alright, alright
Alright, alright, alright, alright
Alright, alright, alright, alright

Now you can put your glass to the sky
If you got love for a nigga with the real
Handy with the hand, see it ride till he die
Quick to let a motherfucker know how you feel

Mama was working two jobs on dialysis
Can't stop, won't stop
All I've been thinking lately is can't flop, won't flop, don't flip
But this shit is straight drop, it's gon' flip
Coke in your nose, smell what I'm cooking
Man there's fiends at the door cause there's dope in the flows
I've been on that Santigold, shove your ho where it don't shine
No .9 can save you
You don't wan't the bovine, a co-sign can't make you
Free-throw line, I'm going back for extras, need that
And when I'm 6'5", of big boy, no 3 Stacks
Tryna flip it 3 ways, 1 pack, 3 days
I give you low key ways to get that off
The henny got me talking crazy like I pissed that soft
I never do it underhanded so it couldn't be that
They'll call him overrated but it couldn't be stats
That they was looking at, time I was putting in
Told 'em bout The Waterwith my wrist I was cooking crack
Everything was crooked then, couldn't get straight life
Rough around the edges, slicing bread with a steak knife
Niggas was stressed, had to learn to finesse
It was still a couple wrinkles that I needed to press
It was still a cup of water that I needed to drink
And it's still a couple burners that I need off my chest
Never the less

Nigga you can put your hands to the sky
If you got love for a nigga with the real
Handy with the hand, see it ride till he die
Quick to let a motherfucker now how you feel, nigga how you feel
I ain't never really had to try
Nigga I'm me, that's all I'm tryna be
Never gave a fuck 'bout a nigga talking shit
If he ain't about the action then that's all that's gon' be
All it's gon' be

You can put your hands to the sky
If you got love for a nigga with the real
Handy with the hand, see it ride till he die
Quick to let a motherfucker now how you feel, nigga how you feel
I ain't never really had to try
Nigga I'm me, that's all I'm tryna be
Never gave a fuck 'bout a nigga talking shit
If he ain't about the action then that's all that's gon' be

Better know I mean what I say
Gotta wash 'em off the medical, I dream when I'm wake
Thoughts get lofty, all you niggas lines get costly
Can't nobody off me, I'm awfully
Sick with this shit, got the sickle cell trait
You fam, I'm gifted
No need for me to check the ballistics
Y'all niggas is missing
How come everybody off with the aim?
I guess over saturation's just a part of the game, I'm out



Credits
Writer(s): Jay Jenkins, Anthony Markeith Reid, Patrick Baril
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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