STRINGER BELL

They don't get it like I get it
No they never, couldn't
I ain't talking 'bout jail when I got a booking
I ain't talking bout drugs when I made a sale
Never going to the box 'cuz I got the bail
I ain't talking bout a kite when I'm checking for mail
There's about 100 n that's wishing I fail
I give 'em glory, I give 'em holy, I give 'em hell
I could never f your shorty cuz she'd kiss and tell
Hope you make it after all that faking man I wish 'em well
Say my name, it should ring a bell
I run the game like Stringer Bell
But I ain't getting clipped
A p n touch me imma shoot 'em in his hip (POW)

Is that it???? 'Cuz I if it is man...

I can be a better friend to y'all alive

I played it well
N screwfacing mad that I made it
His babymama told 'em, I'm her favourite
Always rock the right fragrance
Always been a better rapper, sorry for my lateness
Then again... Nah
'Cuz you can't rush greatness
When it comes to these bars you gotta have patience
Got the whole world waiting
You think you gangster Imma send your a to meet Satan
Got them on their knees praying,
Knees shaking
As I awaken
My weed need baking
No cheese, no bacon
I'm forever blazing

As I awaken, my weed need baking
No cheese, no bacon
I'm forever blazing... yeah

(Prod. By Daiko)



Credits
Writer(s): Darrell Cole, Brian Diaz Alvarez
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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