The Bando Theory

Games don't get played round here nigga
Let's separate the house from the field nigga
For real nigga
I'm a for real nigga
Tortured by the sight of spilled liquor from killed niggas
Who fell victim to steel grippers
I'm so for real picture me in my teens
Handle poking out of my jeans highs and Lowes
Can I build with ya
Beer sipping beard dripping from the brew
Kicking game showing nothing but fearlessness
Still in this
I see what Proof meant now I really feel him
Die a hero or you live long enough to become a villain
They silently attack so how I look like chilling
I done been been in real beef
These niggas are only grilling
No ill intensions used
I came up overlooking those vintage views
You're Mrs. choose
She met every requirement to sip this pimp juice
Fill up her jaw like a whole wad of big league chew
These dudes are broads my heart is a vacant yard
Had to scrap real brawls my knuckles bearing the scars
Went from high school scuffles to clearing it out at bars
Deaf guy in the debate ain't hearing them out at all
A pitbull next to y'all I'm a big dude
Fools sneak and diss the mac spitting like it's Chip Fu
Don't forget this rule
Never cross those who was there for you
Cared for you had your back
Brandishing those pistols
Grown man I never ducked behind my partners
Compartment hidden through the crib
Glocks llamas choppers
Dodging the devil sitting comfy with a godly posture
You think infinity stones I'm thinking seven chakras
I will wake your block up
Samples and the only thing around here that gets chopped up
Boy you are not us
Soaking up the hot sun degrees comfortably
Bitches hunting me like I'm giving out flat tummy tea
It's a certain feeling of uncertainty approaching me
The whole family gon eat Hercules Hercules
Take you out this a cheap date let the llama squeeze
It looked expensive but it didn't cost much a Bahama breeze
Since God is with me who can stand against me
My cup runneth over never empty
Pull up forever crispy
Happen not to whip the same grimy vibe
Bring out the roses every time we ride
I call my heart the Bando because it's empty don't remind me why
A while ago something inside me died
I'm still good you can count on me nigga
Like Kyrie Irving every time he drive
Being real to you is just a 9-to-5
Me I do that shit for life
Till it's over to the wheels fall off
Even then I'm a hitch a ride
Bruh it ain't no hopping lanes a real one
It ain't no switching sides choose wisely or pick a side
Or we can let the clip decide
From this moment on I'm being cocky a Detroit legend
My karmas good I'm trying to match my credit
One of the first Detroiters hitting overseas before Sean did it
We paved the way so all of us can get it
Live from the Bando



Credits
Writer(s): Von Carlisle
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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