NO TINT

(UH)
KARMAGEDDON and we on
(Yeah)
It's CHOZEN RU
Shoutout to Gas Station Studios man
(Mmm), (uh)
Look

(Uh)
Never let a bitch interrupt, tell her wait till I'm finished
(Uh)
Five cars deep on the west, and the whips ain't tinted
(Uh)
And every nigga round me you know damn well with the business
(Uh)
And ain't naan nigga round me who wasn't round when I wasn't winning
(Huh)
She gone throw it for tonight
And I'm gone Po' up wit the Sprite
If she deep-throating then I like her (Yeah)
And I got them shooters who ain't scared to go outta town
So you try to leave, they gunning you down

(Uh), (Uh)
I still got brothers I can never hug again, less I go back to the pen but I won't
I still got thotties who paying from prior relations who think I love 'em, but I don't
I still got previous convictions that wont let me rent no apartments, I cant pass the SCOPE
Niggaz be sleeping on RUCIFER not even knowing the demon already awoke
You think ima rapper I'm really a killa who hiding behind all these muthafuckin smiles
Knowing that you'll never know all the pain I suffer when nobody else is around
That's why I be spitting the shit they would sell to my mama that she would smoke out of them valves
Las Vegas take a look at yo child
They use to hate on me, look at me now
Lotta these niggaz be killers but how many niggaz gone really take that shit to trial
Knowing you spending the rest of yo life in them gates, but handling it wit a smile
Knowing a riot can go up at chow
And nobody answers your call when you dial
GOD forgive me if I don't make you proud
GOD forgive me I know I let you down, Yeah yeah
But this KARMAGEDDON for they past offenses
My childhood was so fucked up, ain't no way ima end up wit a tragic ending
Catch me out wit the baddest bitches, And its my pleasure, but its back to business
And I hit her wit the dick have her actin different
And I'm running up the numbers like a mathematician like yeah, (yeah)
These hoes all sac-chasers
(Yeah), (yeah)
And my dick make her get back braces
I been shooting since baggy jeans, five-X tees, and fat laces
My niggaz all bag chasers, and we hustle up and throw fat H's
Like yeah, yeah

Never let a bitch interrupt, tell her wait till I'm finished
(Uh)
Five cars deep on the west and the whips ain't tinted
(Uh)
And every nigga round me you know damn well wit the business
(Uh)
And ain't naan nigga round me who wasn't round when I wasn't winning
(Huh)
She gone throw it for the night
And I'm gone Po' up wit the Sprite
If she deep-throating then I like her (Yeah)
And I got them shooters who ain't scared to go outta town
So you try to leave they gunning you down

These rappers be selling you half the truth, and you buying it like it's packaged food
We murder because we had to do it, there's nothing left that I have to prove
I got them shooters who blasphemy, you speak on the God they blast at you
Even when solo I pack a tool that will adjust everyone's attitude (Yeah)
Ammunition, (yeah), (yeah)
Forty wit extensions, (yeah), (yeah)
Meet me in the trenches, (yeah), (yeah)
And ion leave a witness, (yeah), (yeah)
Shawty gotta husband, (yeah), but still wanna be my mistress, (yeah), (yeah)
You know I'm wit the business, (yeah), but keep it at a monetary friendship, (yeah), (yeah)
My niggaz all in the streets, yall niggaz never involved in the streets
We popped like five of they asses, but really was only supposed to be targeting three
Come down to Vegas and party wit me, that hatred you got is some sorta disease
But let one of yall run up on me, I promise he find out it ain't what he thought it would be, (yeah)
But this KARMAGEDDON for they past offenses
My childhood was so fucked up, ain't no way ima end up wit a tragic ending
Catch me out wit the baddest bitches, And its my pleasure, but its back to business
And I hit her wit the dick, have her acting different
And I'm running up the numbers like a mathematician like yeah, (yeah)
These hoes all sac-chasers
(Yeah), (yeah)
And my dick make her get back braces
I been shootin since baggy jeans, five-X tees, and fat laces
My niggaz all bag chasers, and we hustle up and throw fat H's
Like yeah, yeah

Never let a bitch interrupt, tell her wait till I'm finished
(Uh)
Five cars deep on the west, and the whips ain't tinted
(Uh)
And every nigga round me you know damn well with the business
(Uh)
And ain't naan nigga round me who wasn't round when I wasn't winning
(Huh)
She gone throw it for tonight
And I'm gone Po' up wit the Sprite
If she deep-throating then I like her (Yeah)
And I got them shooters who ain't scared to go outta town
So you try to leave, they gunning you down