L A T I M E S, P T. I I
It ain't what you know, it's who you know
And I know I'll be that nigga til my fuckin funeral
I've been in my bag, posted up at the studio
With the squad, off some dank and some Don Julio
Bitch, I've been rolling through the city of the lost angels
Neutral niggas getting mixed in with them raw bangers
Out of sight, out of mind
Life harder than some jaw breakers
Finding Christ, dying, I just wonder will our God take us
Speeding fast, every block got them car races
And most these bitches lookin bad like Sanaa Lathan
I gained a friend in you when I lost patience
I know some niggas behind bars waiting
Get stuck for them fast bucks, we was palm aiding
Going to jail off crime
For that clout, niggas dying tryna sell they rhymes
In the nick of time, I started to realize most these niggas lying
Better pay attention to that LA Times
It's some niggas getting richer, while the poor getting broker
But what's a house without a home?
A pen without no notebook?
If family just disown us, know our poppa's never want us
Momma's never sober, got us rollin off the yola, mix it with the baking soda
2020, Fuck Corona
Push the Benz like a Corolla
In the bucket, hittin donuts
Let me crash around the corner
And I know I'll be that nigga til my fuckin funeral
I've been in my bag, posted up at the studio
With the squad, off some dank and some Don Julio
Bitch, I've been rolling through the city of the lost angels
Neutral niggas getting mixed in with them raw bangers
Out of sight, out of mind
Life harder than some jaw breakers
Finding Christ, dying, I just wonder will our God take us
Speeding fast, every block got them car races
And most these bitches lookin bad like Sanaa Lathan
I gained a friend in you when I lost patience
I know some niggas behind bars waiting
Get stuck for them fast bucks, we was palm aiding
Going to jail off crime
For that clout, niggas dying tryna sell they rhymes
In the nick of time, I started to realize most these niggas lying
Better pay attention to that LA Times
It's some niggas getting richer, while the poor getting broker
But what's a house without a home?
A pen without no notebook?
If family just disown us, know our poppa's never want us
Momma's never sober, got us rollin off the yola, mix it with the baking soda
2020, Fuck Corona
Push the Benz like a Corolla
In the bucket, hittin donuts
Let me crash around the corner
Credits
Writer(s): Torey Brown
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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