Grandma’s Stove (feat. Musiq Soulchild)

Yeah, I smoke a blunt to take the pain out
And if I wasn't high, I'd probably try to blow my brains out
I'm at grandmama's stove, I drained the pot and scooped the 'caine out
And I can't write my raps because my tears might flood the page out

And we been on the road for like ten years, keeping 20 blicks in a Sprinter van
Shows was hella empty, but fuck it, I got my niggas in
Once I started poppin', I started flyin' them bitches in
Then I had a baby on E and fucked up the weeding plans

We could've fixed shit between us, but I couldn't fight my demons
I never knew shit would lead us to child support subpoenas
Rap deadbeat daddy, that's how they try to paint me
And that's a shame 'cause those that know me know I love my babies

Raven was a rat, she scratched the Benzy and I dropped the charges
That ho know she'd never had my heart, so she attacked my pockets
Gotta watch how you rockin' with these groupies, this shit get retarded
If it wasn't me, it'd be an athlete or another artist

I smoke a blunt to take the pain out
And if I wasn't high, I'd probably try to blow my brains out
I rep that big VL, I brought them T's and them Insanes out
You open that back door against the gang, it'd be a bang out

The numbers is jumping, left wrist cost a hundred and something
You selling eights of 38, bitch, you thuggin' for nothing (for nothing)
My nigga White beat two cases, that was a God blessing (yeah)
He rich enough to leave the streets, but he too hardheaded

All my niggas' energy is rap, sell dope
Ducking the reaper, ain't no sleeping when you juggling both
My 'migo told me, "Fuck that rap shit" 'cause that shit was a joke
Lambo can't get me in the booth, I get my heroin in bulk

I gave Diego so much game, I hope he take something from it
And I made plays for my nigga, I pray he make something of it
The saddest part about success is that hate come from it
I hit up Black, for my first .9, I paid like eight-somethin' for it, yeah

I smoke a blunt to take the pain out
And if I wasn't high, I'd probably try to blow my brains out
Them Gary streets was cold, but I'm the one that made a lane out
When H got caught with work, he never snitched or gave my name out

I love him for that
Benz start, push a button for that
When you get rich, you might cut off some of your brother's for that (for that)
I bought a house out in Cali, I made it out for real
Pop Smoke killed in the Hills, that shit gave me chills

Willy was my day one nigga, we done been through some shit
Thought that I was never gon' see him after that Europe shit
Nigga, wa was broke and we would share my food
I hate Jabaree had to get killed for us to get back cool

A nigga stressing so I numb it with drugs, liquor, and table dances
Need to slow my roll 'cause my daddy battling stomach cancer
Tryna chase my dreams, but I hate the shit that I'm runnin' after
Had some deadly beef with some rappers, but that's another chapter (that's another chapter)

I smoke a opp to take the pain out
Pull up at your show and air your motherfuckin' stage out
They caught me at The Box and sent some shots, I sent some change out
Told them pussy niggas, get umbrellas, it's gon' rain out (motherfucker)

I smoke a opp to take the pain out
Pull up on your block and air your 'Rari or your Range out
They caught me at the light and sent some shots, I sent some change out
I told them pussy niggas, get umbrellas, it's gon' rain out, motherfucker

Oh, yeah, even if you bring an umbrella (umbrella)
You can't stop the pouring (no)
You ignored the warnings (warnings)
Should've seen the signs (signs)
It's so hard to pretend (hard to pretend)
Shit gets too real (real)
See, I know no one's coming (no)
So fuck how you feel (how you feel, how you feel)

You should save yourself, I can't save you (no)
Time we lost, can't make up (no)
All them shots, no chaser (no)
Normal talk, that's played out
I gave you all of me, but obviously
It don't align with what you want or what I need
You don't deserve the rights to parts of me
You could tell whoever 'bout your thoughts of me (oh)

We apologize for the noise and disturbance on the penthouse floors
We assure you we are currently investigating the matter
We appreciate your patience while staying with us at the Tiriple S Hotel, Resort, and Casino
Hey, Fred, it's your mom
Calling to hear from you
Haven't heard from you in a while
Give me a call when you get a chance
I love you, bye-bye
Soul, soul, soul, soul sold separately



Credits
Writer(s): Taalib Johnson, Freddie Gibbs, Norva Denton, Ben Lambert
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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