10 Minutes

Fuck it, we right in with it
Damn Ju
Been done knocked this out in ten minutes
Way before the outro to my last tape, I been menace
And I saw them lil shots they been sending
If they thought I did miss it, I ain't Ben Simmons
If I send a shot, it will hit
And I ain't sending shit on a instrument
So zip them lips, or get fired up
With this zip, it got a filthy stench
Niggas looking silly, checking temp over a filthy bitch
But that's how this shit get, really a fucked up predicament
Going out sad over a hoe that's going for a McPick
Nowadays, everybody just fraud, I don't think shit legit
Learned that when I saw niggas dropping flicks with hoes I just had hit

I don't want too many round, if you ain't D.O.N, don't got a membership
Unless I'm out the way with M.I.A., they don't know how this shit get
When my old mans was eating all in my face, I ain't even blink or flinch
Or speak on shit, a nigga can't break bread, I don't wanna eat with him
These niggas do anything to get ahead, I ain't trying to compete with them
Fucked up in the head, but I ain't been taking no meds
'Cause I ain't in need of them
Even though I'm accompanied by all these demons haunting
I still speak to them
Like on some frequent shit, anything I can just to make peace with them

That hoe said she ah die to be with him
I told her like, look, this ain't Queen and Slim
Bitch, how you claim to need me so bad?
I'm in way more need of him
I been milking the clock this long
Lactose, so I don't need no skim
Think they want me to show the inner G so they can feed off him
I need ah anemic wrist, so til I'm freezing, I can't leave the gym
They ain't never seen this shit, say like, who walk it down as clean as him?
Bro told me he all in, so I start hawking down this dream with him
We locked in on phones til bro swiped up a booth
Who really green as him?



Credits
Writer(s): Roy Fields Iii
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