Wussup

What's good
Lagoon pull up in yo' hood like a hood
Man I wish a bitch would, really test me if they could
We gon' rearrange yo life, if you get misunderstood
North side, young blood, lemme know wussup

You ain't bool bitch
I was flipping grams when you was playing after school, bitch
I done flipped the switch I'm making legal money too bitch
I ate sleep for dinner, it was drugs or it was food bitch
I been on my own, just dodged a case, I'm goin through shit
Who move 50 deep in Chicopee
No one in this city gon' do shit like me
Bitch we ain't a group, we a trilogy
I dropped Prologue just to air out all the shit with me
Half these pussies couldn't speak on what I speak

Run up on you, take ya gold but I'll leave you with a halo
Talkin' big on Twitter in reality you lay low
Man I'm drinking on the regular it keep me stable
Pop up in yo' hood leave you shocked like jumper cables
I was 16, snorting pills, parking lot of Walgreens, I ain't sleep that night
Best believe I wanted to die, demons ain't win that fight
Heart used to be solid gold, now it's made of charcoal

Lagoon pull up in yo' hood like a hood
Man I wish a bitch would, really test me if they could
We gon' rearrange yo life, if you get misunderstood
North side, young blood, lemme know wussup

Grab your rosary beads, say your Hail Mary's
Cause TY In this bitch and it gon' get scary
I can't rock True's I'm an atheist, dick game gon' break a bitch
I think I found my niche, if he keep frontin' I leave that boy in a ditch
I ain't got shit to lose so I ain't hesitant

Roach Gang run shit, please don't conflict
I need diamond orthodontics, money calling workaholic
I need more than just a stock clip
A&R stalking me, why yo' bitch still talk to me
Youngin's try to walk and talk like me but they not me

I just want my cash looking like that San Andreas Cheat code
We some threats, Midas touch, got the gold on my neck
And if your bitch wanna chill the set, then
We don't want her pass that hoe to the rest
Now they fearing us
Like we spittin' in Braille I know they feelin' us

Real recognize real
Talk about the wrong shit gon' get you killed
Nobody care if you come from the 'Field
Nobody fighting when clips getting spilled
Sometimes I miss pressing pills, hopping fences and deals
But I'm better off working to sign for a mil cause
These streets ain't gone save you when somebody squeal
Bitch



Credits
Writer(s): Jacob Kudo
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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