Underground Beef

(Guy's it's, it's that one take?
Okay hit it, turn me up, aye)
So, you gotta do what you gotta to do nigga, yeah
Leave that shit to the street's dawg (to the streets dawg)
Keep your fuckin' fingers crossed (yeah)

Yeah, check
So, I gotta do what I do
Nobody make this flossy move
And say what you really do
Broke or not, I'll probably never lose
They'll say I've stolen this type of flow
Really? ain't tryin' impress or decide, or discuss who's lame
You rappers are suckers for fame
You really can't even name
Who's is with? who's is what?
They all sounding the same
I'm still in hood don't be surprised
You rob yourself thinking that you charging too much
Or decide if you really changing for fame
Too many clips going around the hood
They Glock you up, like a fuck up
They smelling too much cheese
And go rat it out with the pigs
I'm official the company bank holder
My life is on ease
I gotta hand it out with the Castilians
Yeah, I'm living my life on the streets
That's why you never catch me with the fuckin' ratchets (yeah)
I'm underground I really manage
To prevent the -, nigga you bitchin' (nigga you bitchin')

It's the underground beef dawg
Don't fuck with us you gotta leave that shit to the streets dawg (ay)
It's the underground beef dawg
Don't fuck with us you gotta leave that shit to the streets dawg

I'm still having records in my momma's garage
What should I do with them? (huh)
I'm still having records in my momma's garage
What should I do with them?
(Keep your fuckin' fingers crossed)



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