Offense

And I'll probably die young all this weed in my lungs
All this drink in my cup, scottie beaming me up
This sour got me stuck swear I be thinking to much
I think I need me a shrink, had to drop my Cuban bitch
'Cause all she want do is link, smoke weed and sip drink
But it's a bigger picture, can't take those likes and tweets with ya
Now watch me live my life through these scriptures
Live through my niggas who wake up and hit a clip
Got to get those dividends
'Cause when you busy standing out ain't no time for fitting in
My drive is like that Bentley I picture me sitting in
No records of the last rapper that I went against
Leave 'em dead like the presidents stashed in my residence
I gotta set the precedent flow benevolent
Hell bound but heaven sent vote Spitta for president
Gettin' money off the penmanship
So much money that I'm walking like George Jefferson
Bx degenerate

Nothin' in this life is guarenteed
You wanna see me fall, then you got to bury me
I'm in the lead, all these rappers is lunch to me
In other words, ya'll can't fuck with me

Run with the real ones
Run 'till you feel some
We keep the ball on offense
Run like you stole some
Run like you on one
We keep the ball on offense

What it look like
It only smell good if it's cooked right
Smith Boyardee
Skin fade tight wit my beard on Suge Knight
For the love of the push and shove
I keep gloves with me
Satisfied with a good fight
Competing with you decent niggas giving me a good life

They shooting, Smith made you look twice
Your written is an interlude
Between what Don and Spitta 'bout to get into
Ya'll got Seattle sonics, best believe we gettin' rid of you

Remember me dog, no memory foam
I'm comfty
The skrilla we on inevitably for
The come up

You remember me now
Got your whole team heated, no technical foul
Full court pressing niggas, Don Artest on 'em
Got 'em hot as bench riders wearing leg warmers

Nothin' in this life is guarenteed
You wanna see me fall, then you got to bury me
I'm in the lead, all these rappers is lunch to me
In other words, ya'll can't fuck with me

Run with the real ones
Run 'till you feel some
We keep the ball on offense
Run like you stole some
Run like you on one
We keep the ball on offense
(Run, run)
We keep the ball on offense
(Run, run)

Offense in Jackie Robinson
See me with counterparts
My words turn to green this a salad bar
I had apartments before you changed carriers
They think I'm cuffin' but the game married him
Discussin' business with my manager,
We're not convinced
You either study or you countin' chips
Monopolies and counterfeits
They robbin niggas for they Merms, some '07 shit
Dutches and lighters tucked in the freshest kicks
Still on the block with my family
Niggas drinkin' fifths
These pigs movin funny, man its cold
Hundred percent, you know we speak in code
Blood pumpin', got my eyes slowed
I need my daughter's name chain in gold
Sole survivor Leonidas we see different prices
A price for the clout but I don't feel divided
They say it's real if there's reassurance
You know Im selfish, this my only service



Credits
Writer(s): Romelle Loiseau
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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