Max's
Imma be honest I'mma cry if they king me
Cause I know the angels proud from Grandma to Reverend Tinsley
Sometimes it feel like them 223s are tempur-pedic to me
Pierce through the skin to the point I need it to breathe
Matter fact these soliloquies of crack fiends and back streets is killing me
My mind is gone from monologues
And y'all think poetry helping me
I think Not at all
I was a problem to the teacher
A problem to the preacher
And they said that they ain't like me
I ain't like you niggas either
And Polo said he memorized every line from obituary poetry
Why would I memorize the lines when I wrote it and everybody know it's me
Aye
Wait
They don't feel me Mou
I'm making slow songs that real niggas out here prolly gon kill you to
I never asked for this
Carrying Easter baskets
Provided Good practice
For carrying three ivory green caskets
That made my heart Hurt
I'm never in a forgiving mood
I've been the biggest menace since they got my uncle in his living room
Y'all claim to be the ticket
But I know that I'm the only soul my family is living through
I told my momma take me to school instead she would drink
I looked down in my cousin eyes and I had begged him to blink
It's a reason why none of these niggas check me
Cause all the murderers and drug dealers respect me
The only time you see me featured on a song is if the nigga doing it wrong and the people want em gone
I lied when I said I would retire
Cause when shits hits the fan
I'm the hitman for hire
And I told y'all that I'd kill em cause niggas been acting stupid
When the blood is on my hands just know the devil made me do it
Cause I know the angels proud from Grandma to Reverend Tinsley
Sometimes it feel like them 223s are tempur-pedic to me
Pierce through the skin to the point I need it to breathe
Matter fact these soliloquies of crack fiends and back streets is killing me
My mind is gone from monologues
And y'all think poetry helping me
I think Not at all
I was a problem to the teacher
A problem to the preacher
And they said that they ain't like me
I ain't like you niggas either
And Polo said he memorized every line from obituary poetry
Why would I memorize the lines when I wrote it and everybody know it's me
Aye
Wait
They don't feel me Mou
I'm making slow songs that real niggas out here prolly gon kill you to
I never asked for this
Carrying Easter baskets
Provided Good practice
For carrying three ivory green caskets
That made my heart Hurt
I'm never in a forgiving mood
I've been the biggest menace since they got my uncle in his living room
Y'all claim to be the ticket
But I know that I'm the only soul my family is living through
I told my momma take me to school instead she would drink
I looked down in my cousin eyes and I had begged him to blink
It's a reason why none of these niggas check me
Cause all the murderers and drug dealers respect me
The only time you see me featured on a song is if the nigga doing it wrong and the people want em gone
I lied when I said I would retire
Cause when shits hits the fan
I'm the hitman for hire
And I told y'all that I'd kill em cause niggas been acting stupid
When the blood is on my hands just know the devil made me do it
Credits
Writer(s): Craig Johnson-jackson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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