Chapters
Aight, I've been on the clock
Tryna work hard, fuck a Glock
Everything's fun and games 'til I get shot
Pray to God my soul won't rot
One, two, three, four,
Gonna cop a whip with Suicide doors
Getting bread is the score
Root of all evil, money's at the core
I swear I haven't changed
Got priorities rearranged
Wondering where I'll go next
Resistance is the test
Ay, people ain't bumping my shit
Telling me I gotta quit
Just want the drugs, guess that's it
Honestly, I just wanna die fucking lit
But I'm always too busy with conflict
Been out here working on the music
Been out here working on the true shit, ay
Been out here working on the music
Been out here working on the real shit, ay
Fuck the criticism, fuck the system
Fuck the fakes, I don't miss 'em
Fuck the haters, yeah I'm better than 'em
Ay, so these beats, yeah, I fuckin' kill 'em
Fuck this and fuck that
Got this and got that
Squishing the hate like a bug splat
Now all my racks are real fucking fat
I've been on the music grind
I've been making bank
Robbing me is a ticket to Heaven's gates
I don't fuck around, always learning from mistakes
Don't test me, ay
And you know I'm better than you since I did this in one take
One, two, three, four
Working to the core
Getting out the gutter is the final score
Life's fucking hard when you're poor
I've been there and done that
You don't know me or the struggle of that
Suicide, I passed that
Got here and that's that, ay
Seen the violence and riots
People telling me to try this
But I don't get it, yeah, I don't buy it
It's all just never ending fucking violence
White people getting executed for some land
Black lives matter, yes, that's true
But why do it when everything crumbles to sand
Ah yeah, that's what God told you to do
Stealing shit and robbing shit
Getting this and getting lit
Kill a bitch and then you're rich
But you're broke so what's the fucking sitch?
Ay
Tryna work hard, fuck a Glock
Everything's fun and games 'til I get shot
Pray to God my soul won't rot
One, two, three, four,
Gonna cop a whip with Suicide doors
Getting bread is the score
Root of all evil, money's at the core
I swear I haven't changed
Got priorities rearranged
Wondering where I'll go next
Resistance is the test
Ay, people ain't bumping my shit
Telling me I gotta quit
Just want the drugs, guess that's it
Honestly, I just wanna die fucking lit
But I'm always too busy with conflict
Been out here working on the music
Been out here working on the true shit, ay
Been out here working on the music
Been out here working on the real shit, ay
Fuck the criticism, fuck the system
Fuck the fakes, I don't miss 'em
Fuck the haters, yeah I'm better than 'em
Ay, so these beats, yeah, I fuckin' kill 'em
Fuck this and fuck that
Got this and got that
Squishing the hate like a bug splat
Now all my racks are real fucking fat
I've been on the music grind
I've been making bank
Robbing me is a ticket to Heaven's gates
I don't fuck around, always learning from mistakes
Don't test me, ay
And you know I'm better than you since I did this in one take
One, two, three, four
Working to the core
Getting out the gutter is the final score
Life's fucking hard when you're poor
I've been there and done that
You don't know me or the struggle of that
Suicide, I passed that
Got here and that's that, ay
Seen the violence and riots
People telling me to try this
But I don't get it, yeah, I don't buy it
It's all just never ending fucking violence
White people getting executed for some land
Black lives matter, yes, that's true
But why do it when everything crumbles to sand
Ah yeah, that's what God told you to do
Stealing shit and robbing shit
Getting this and getting lit
Kill a bitch and then you're rich
But you're broke so what's the fucking sitch?
Ay
Credits
Writer(s): Paul Van Duyn
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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