On My Mama (feat. Mad Talent)
I built it all from a brick of dust
The flake illuminates
I need a pan fuck a dinner plate
1008 grams
When it hit the streets the kane Crunch like fish tails
Nigga this dope is real
These fakes try to fool you
Like counter-fit bills
Even bars is hit
Niggas cutting prescription pills
Shit was destined
I foreseen it all threw sheer will
I couldn't hide the pain
My struggles real
Selling china
Like a chink
Blood diamonds
In my Cuban link
Heavy the burden
On my mama I made a mill
Cutting white like bo ricks
I'm illustrious
Dope measured with mac spoons
The feins loving it
I swear to god I found my niche
Cooking a brick
Listening to the chef
It's only built for Cuban links
Money's my only mission
I'll gun you down
Ya run be short
Like a intermission
Motherfucka
My eyes cut
And the shit is in front of me
Woman wanna c me
But i already got company
Has the karma come for me
Laying in my bed
Making breakfast
And its having lunch with me
Look
What life has become
The thoughts be regulated
By the remy
And the ghanja
Attitude is fuck it
As i sip and i ponder
Tryna change my life
Like stevie I wondered
Blind
And superstitious
With intentions
Fuck the drama
Ready for the bullshit
I put it on my momma
Praying for a better day
Inspired by the llama
Sound bites of the mind
Some thoughts i aint fond of
And thats when the pain is real
Im insane and ill
Smoke the angel dust
On Ezekiels wheel
Praying for the real
I don't hurt a soul
In my quest for mills
The flake illuminates
I need a pan fuck a dinner plate
1008 grams
When it hit the streets the kane Crunch like fish tails
Nigga this dope is real
These fakes try to fool you
Like counter-fit bills
Even bars is hit
Niggas cutting prescription pills
Shit was destined
I foreseen it all threw sheer will
I couldn't hide the pain
My struggles real
Selling china
Like a chink
Blood diamonds
In my Cuban link
Heavy the burden
On my mama I made a mill
Cutting white like bo ricks
I'm illustrious
Dope measured with mac spoons
The feins loving it
I swear to god I found my niche
Cooking a brick
Listening to the chef
It's only built for Cuban links
Money's my only mission
I'll gun you down
Ya run be short
Like a intermission
Motherfucka
My eyes cut
And the shit is in front of me
Woman wanna c me
But i already got company
Has the karma come for me
Laying in my bed
Making breakfast
And its having lunch with me
Look
What life has become
The thoughts be regulated
By the remy
And the ghanja
Attitude is fuck it
As i sip and i ponder
Tryna change my life
Like stevie I wondered
Blind
And superstitious
With intentions
Fuck the drama
Ready for the bullshit
I put it on my momma
Praying for a better day
Inspired by the llama
Sound bites of the mind
Some thoughts i aint fond of
And thats when the pain is real
Im insane and ill
Smoke the angel dust
On Ezekiels wheel
Praying for the real
I don't hurt a soul
In my quest for mills
Credits
Writer(s): Curtis Cross
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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