Picture This
Uno got the streets goin' crazy
(Thanks, Yakree)
(Slayer)
Ain't picture this, it was 'posed to be different (yeah, yeah, yeah)
But I ain't trippin', ain't runnin' from shit (no, no, no)
I'm ready for whatever come with it (yeah, yeah, yeah)
To raise my son is a wonderful feeling (yeah, yeah, yeah)
When I ask you somethin', give your honest opinion (your honest opinion)
Ain't go to school, I had fucked-up attendance
Even though I got blue hundreds, fifties, and these twenties (and these twenties)
These George Washingtons make your bitch dance
No, I cannot be fake with you
I can't even lie, this shit'll never be what it was
I be talkin' 'bout you ain't reach out when you made it, did you see?
I'm on my way and now you reachin' out for what?
Where the fuck where you? Blood shedded, can't be what it was
The fuck is up with you? Them rug-heads go get it out the mud
No, I don't do no lovin', filled up my heart with money
Ain't know that I could run it up like this so much
When I tell you I'm comin', I'm comin', no rush
When I failed you, know you wanna go thug somewhere else
I got shows now, like Giannis, I'm comin' for the bucks
Get the backend, no backend, we park front of the club
Ain't picture this, it was 'posed to be different (yeah, yeah, yeah)
But I ain't trippin', ain't runnin' from shit (no, no, no)
I'm ready for whatever come with it (yeah, yeah, yeah)
To raise my son is a wonderful feeling (yeah, yeah, yeah)
When I ask you somethin', give your honest opinion (your honest opinion)
Ain't go to school, I had fucked-up attendance
Even though I got blue hundreds, fifties, and these twenties (and these twenties)
These George Washingtons make your bitch dance
Said I'm ready for whatever come with this life
I'm surrounded by steppers, it ain't really no price
I ain't talkin' seven hundred, they gon' hit it on sight
Let a nigga run up on me, he gon' feel the four-five
.223, .556, 7.62 (yeah)
Could never beef 'bout a B, I got big loot (yeah)
Thought I missed you, no, I just got my wrist frozed up
These niggas tissue and wonder why I'm shittin' on them
Fell in love with cougars, man, they keep it so real
I spit these rhymes with no mask on, that's why they so ill
If I ain't did it, when I rap, in my song, you won't hear
I keep it real with all my fans, can't name a dream I sold them
Ain't picture this, it was 'posed to be different (yeah, yeah, yeah)
But I ain't trippin', ain't runnin' from shit (no, no, no)
I'm ready for whatever come with it (yeah, yeah, yeah)
To raise my son is a wonderful feeling (yeah, yeah, yeah)
When I ask you somethin', give your honest opinion (your honest opinion)
Ain't go to school, I had fucked-up attendance
Even though I got blue hundreds, fifties, and these twenties (and these twenties)
These George Washingtons make your bitch dance
Baby, can you just forgive me? I been ridin' 'round with a fifty
I know that these niggas envy so I don't fuck with too many
Yeah, yeah, no kidding, I'm talkin' literally
Can you feel me? I want all these people to hear me
Know the real me, they tryna kill me
I keep from Siri, I can't let a fuck nigga near me
(Hot cut the fan on, man, you know, uh)
(Double O, lil' baby-)
(Thanks, Yakree)
(Slayer)
Ain't picture this, it was 'posed to be different (yeah, yeah, yeah)
But I ain't trippin', ain't runnin' from shit (no, no, no)
I'm ready for whatever come with it (yeah, yeah, yeah)
To raise my son is a wonderful feeling (yeah, yeah, yeah)
When I ask you somethin', give your honest opinion (your honest opinion)
Ain't go to school, I had fucked-up attendance
Even though I got blue hundreds, fifties, and these twenties (and these twenties)
These George Washingtons make your bitch dance
No, I cannot be fake with you
I can't even lie, this shit'll never be what it was
I be talkin' 'bout you ain't reach out when you made it, did you see?
I'm on my way and now you reachin' out for what?
Where the fuck where you? Blood shedded, can't be what it was
The fuck is up with you? Them rug-heads go get it out the mud
No, I don't do no lovin', filled up my heart with money
Ain't know that I could run it up like this so much
When I tell you I'm comin', I'm comin', no rush
When I failed you, know you wanna go thug somewhere else
I got shows now, like Giannis, I'm comin' for the bucks
Get the backend, no backend, we park front of the club
Ain't picture this, it was 'posed to be different (yeah, yeah, yeah)
But I ain't trippin', ain't runnin' from shit (no, no, no)
I'm ready for whatever come with it (yeah, yeah, yeah)
To raise my son is a wonderful feeling (yeah, yeah, yeah)
When I ask you somethin', give your honest opinion (your honest opinion)
Ain't go to school, I had fucked-up attendance
Even though I got blue hundreds, fifties, and these twenties (and these twenties)
These George Washingtons make your bitch dance
Said I'm ready for whatever come with this life
I'm surrounded by steppers, it ain't really no price
I ain't talkin' seven hundred, they gon' hit it on sight
Let a nigga run up on me, he gon' feel the four-five
.223, .556, 7.62 (yeah)
Could never beef 'bout a B, I got big loot (yeah)
Thought I missed you, no, I just got my wrist frozed up
These niggas tissue and wonder why I'm shittin' on them
Fell in love with cougars, man, they keep it so real
I spit these rhymes with no mask on, that's why they so ill
If I ain't did it, when I rap, in my song, you won't hear
I keep it real with all my fans, can't name a dream I sold them
Ain't picture this, it was 'posed to be different (yeah, yeah, yeah)
But I ain't trippin', ain't runnin' from shit (no, no, no)
I'm ready for whatever come with it (yeah, yeah, yeah)
To raise my son is a wonderful feeling (yeah, yeah, yeah)
When I ask you somethin', give your honest opinion (your honest opinion)
Ain't go to school, I had fucked-up attendance
Even though I got blue hundreds, fifties, and these twenties (and these twenties)
These George Washingtons make your bitch dance
Baby, can you just forgive me? I been ridin' 'round with a fifty
I know that these niggas envy so I don't fuck with too many
Yeah, yeah, no kidding, I'm talkin' literally
Can you feel me? I want all these people to hear me
Know the real me, they tryna kill me
I keep from Siri, I can't let a fuck nigga near me
(Hot cut the fan on, man, you know, uh)
(Double O, lil' baby-)
Credits
Writer(s): Javarri Walker, Eli Haire, Charles Edward Claeys, Jack Richard Thierer
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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