Friends & Foes

Zaytoven

Where would I be without rap? Nobody really knows
Me and Gregg was sharin' clothes, but we weren't really bros
We was tryna impress them hoes, kept us on our toes
I had 25 in high school, like I'm Derrick Rose
I had a Glock when I met Pistol P, that's on my soul
Hat always cocked back to the left 'cause I grew up with the moes
And I was thuggin' hard with shawty like I'm one of the fours
I had some shootouts with my bro 'n' 'em, I had to give it and go

Shit got hot, we starstruck most of 'em
Still got one of the old ones though
Might hang that bitch in a frame for show
That's the one that my big bro used to do
We ain't learn how to blow on no range, no
Pop out, flame out the Wrangler door
Might could've blew out my brains, though
Niggas mustn't got no aim no more

Niggas left me in the rain some more
I found some gold in the rainbow though
They say I got money and changed the most
Please don't forget I'm still dangerous, though
Still I walk up on a stranger, though
Gangster shit run in my veins for sure
I wanna change 'em, though
Know how to channel my anger, though

Oh, we ain't gone save 'em, no
Where his hood at? We gon' name him, though
Oh, yeah, I'm famous, so?
None of my killers want payment, though
Oh, we ain't 'posed to be bangin', no
Me and my niggas, we hangin', though
Oh, I don't wanna be slangin' dope
This pistol don't ever stop rangin', though

Ayy, I don't panic
Whips be panoramic
I was sellin' dope at my granny's
Xanny's, yeah, I need a Grammy, oh
Need another big ass mansion, uh
Big yard, big ass hammock, uh
Wrist all wet, Atlantic
Bitch, it's big bucks, no whammies

My bitch need attention, she bad as fuck
And she got lips like Angela
You know a young nigga done ran it up
Damn, I could buy her a phantom, huh?
Where that come from? That was random, huh?
Die for respect, I demand it
I was very broke, now I'm rich, can't stand it
Tell me why niggas hate Randy

G Herbo, fuck niggas can't stand me, huh
Worth a couple mil', I'm branded, uh
Special nigga 'cause I'm left handed, huh
Niggas namin' shit, I had it
I ran through that sack like I must've forgot it
I helped niggas out when I should've bought a Patek
They sneak diss a lot, but they don't want no static
You savages should be no rumor, you ratted

I bought my first pipe, cuzzo said I could have it
At G Fazo house, me and fair in the attic
Kay Fazo was here, used to sit and imagine
Then pull on they block just to shoot what we averagin'

Ladders and horses and carriages, you know we clappin' shit
Opps, we embarrass 'em, ayy
We ain't gon' hop out no caravan, ayy
Foenem might fire up yo' cameraman, ayy

Real street niggas I represent
Long live Bapo and Hellabands
Ain't nothin' but trappers and bappers in here
Who the fuck let all these rappers in?
We ain't with none of that chitchat, uh-uh
You ain't never hear no click-clack
Shawty 'n' 'em ready to kidnap somethin'
Send his arm home in a gift wrap for 'em

Push a nigga shit back some
Homie 'n' 'em might want some get-back for 'em
We finna slide tonight
Heard his homie 'n' 'em tryna have a kickback for 'em
Broskie the driver, got my window rolled down in the rear back some
Just havin' fun, that's the type of shit I did, I was young

I shed a tear for my young, nigga, I kill for my son
And before I met him, I was numb
Let a nigga feel my drum
A lot of niggas think I'm dumb
I'ma just let 'em think what they want
They probably think I'm a punk
Niggas probably really think I ain't gon' dump

I'm the type to let 'em front
Leave a nigga ass all in a nameless slump
After I feed a nigga hollow tips, I need a blunt
Sick and tired of smokin' all this gelato, shit, I need some Runtz
Finna get another 150 charm real quick, I need a fun

40 thousand go out every first of the month
Just for livin', always been that nigga, so you never could front
Just be consistent
Pulled up on flexin' shit, like, "Yeah, bitch, we did it"
Out of these digits
Naw, not that, that's just a lil' million
Uh, uh



Credits
Writer(s): Herbert Randall Wright, Xavier Lamar Dotson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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