GODS Don't Bleed

Ah
Aye, I'm, I'm ready for whatever, nigga
Butcher, yeah, ok
Yep, just like that
Uh huh, Griselda, nigga
Yeah, uh

Even the FBI said the squad was violent
They labelled us young, wild, and homicidal
But hustlers treat my last shit like it's some kind of Bible
'Cause I drove with my last brick in a Honda Pilot
With some fathers, he never got his guidance
Got in the game, and never got to get his input when I decided

It's not surprising, niggas not as nice as Griselda
And I'm as bright as my elders, Off White at Coachella
How you on parole with a curfew and some beef?
Don't shit where you eat the first rule of the streets
And depending what I'm paying, I could send 'em where you're laying
Body snatcher jumping out the Renault with it in his hand
Had to take a few trips just to kick it with my man
Like did he give us what I'm planned, I guess I'm filling up the van, uh

Bring it back in bales but distribute it in grams
Conversations in the cell, where most criminals advance
Let's back track, had my first daughter with my first wife
Bought my first quarter, caught my first stripe
Said it by a nigga, I served twice
He got picked up, then he bitched up, like he was 'bout to serve life
I turn dope to dollars, how you explain that?
Straight facts, blood on the money when it got paid back
You know them hustlers who sling packs

I'm tying with them same cats in case I gotta get my name back
All them nights I had to pray for this, they gon' pay for this
No mistaking it, got a safe with no more space in it
We put it on tracks, these rappers copy and pasting it
Take Belichick playbook and still won't be the Patriots
Y'all shocked, I'm out your league by a long shot
My team gave the city smoke like cigar shops, damn
They tryna get my man what Saddam got say my name, and wake these niggas up like alarm clocks

Niggas run away, and they hide, saying New York's full
Didn't say his grace and he died his first forkful
Nigga that ain't got no pride is unlawful
Things that he partakes in are done forceful
Dudes that get down like that get done awful (awful)
Pull his razor out on sight and come across you
Adrenaline rush make him do it with no remorse too (uh)
You would do it too, but you know how much it would cost you (you know)

I'm in the left lane, tryna see how much that the Porsche do (ha)
Do a lot of thinking, so you can say that I'm thoughtful (yeah)
We ain't got a corkscrew? Fuck it, just push the cork through (push it through)
Yeah, then pour everybody a glass, bitch (everybody)
Check the fact that hell is for everybody to stash it (get money)
The grip is in his arm mean everybody the blast (blast)
And fall back so everybody can pass
Ask me, and I'ma tell you that everybody is trash (trash)
I rolled them Backs, I sold them packs (uh huh)

Started with the girl, never should have showed him smack (these niggas)
Made it through the hate, they couldn't even hold him back (wire)
Told 'em everything else, you should have told 'em that (haha)
Nigga, now they even saying you did it, or they saw you (uh huh)
Ain't no more niggas committed to the morals (uh, uh)
They should get bullets, double digits in they orals
Stay the fuck out of these streets, they ain't for you

Eh yo, MAC with the serial scratched
Acne Studio bucket hat stuffed with cracks, 12, 12 lumberjacks
My city drug infested, cherry Cayman SS (skr)
Four in the baby stretchers, supreme vest and leathers over baby hecklers (ah)
The 40-issue nickel, hit you close range twice

Advisory, Board Crystals, Prestos Off-White
First over at the all bright, fiends knocking all night
Niggas like "Who that right there?" They seen the porch lights
Extendo hanging out the passenger, it caused a massacre
Stick with the dumbbell drum, black as Africa
Bullets raining, Stella umbrellas, now they jealous

Read the same book but didn't understand the message
Drop beamers, Issey Miyake seats
The opps obsolete, Chanel mask in the robbery
The feds eye on me, I pour some rose gold
Drive bys, I let the roach go (skr), still copping Gabana boatloads
I'm so appalled the coke never came back
Mr. Goyard Mozart, my shooter need a nose job
Left his brains up on these New York, check the chalkboard
The Eiffel on the postcard, peace God, peace God

God is the greatest, we can never be free