Final Moments

Look in the mirror who do you see?
Is it a reflection of the web you've weaved?
This is your final moment, so please just tell me how do you want it

Don't say that I'm not with that shit
Don't say that I won't do shit
I'll leave yo ass dry like a bag of bricks
Don't try to test my patience bitch
Boy I'll gun yo ass down with the .9
Man I'll have your whole family crying
7.62s are all that be flyin
Fuck 12, if it's a pig I'll leave him fried

Hold it down, for the clique I'll ride
Mama said she ain't raise no thug
If that's the case why you ain't show no love
Pops thought I was starting to bug
Told him I'm jittering it's not from the cup
He had to deal as a youngin' just to make it
Now that he's older all he can do is just fake it

Fake it to make it, that's what you finna do till you're complacent
What can do in this world, when it don't show no thugs no love
What can you do with this cup, I'll double it and pour it up
What can you do to get a grip of this shit
What will I do to get a cup full of sins
Winning the race but not Churchill downs
It ain't even winning if all yo blood still got frowns
Is it really even winning, everyone still looking down
Fuck all this shit gotta get outta town
How can I be seen when I'm down in a valley

Yea yea, I got the club jumpin'
Yea yea, I got your bitch jumpin'
Ah yea, I got the club bumpin'
Yea yea, we from the valley from the

Thug love babe that's all I need
Running up all the cash
While you wipe my nosebleed
I want you to do it shake that ass baby
While I smoke on that green
N sip on my lean

Yea yea, I'll hold it down for my clique
Yea yea, I'll hold it down for my bitch
Sick and tired of these bums that be talking
Sick and tired of these bitches that stalk me
I ain't throwing up shit, but I came from tha streetz
I'm walking down casually, ducking and dodging all of these casualties
I'm still with the beef, ah shit got some blood on my tee
Ah shit, made yo anual in a week
Plan your funeral then delete

Don't say that I'm not with that shit
Don't say that I won't do shit
I'll leave yo ass dry like a bag of bricks
Don't try to test my patience bitch
Boy I'll gun yo ass down with the .9
Man I'll have your whole family crying
7.62s are all that be flyin
Fuck 12, if it's a pig I'll leave him fried

Hold it down, for the clique I'll ride
Mama said she ain't raise no thug
If that's the case why you ain't show no love
Pops thought I was starting to bug
Told him I'm jittering it's not from the cup
He had to deal as a youngin' just to make it
Now that he's older all he can do is just fake it

Yea yea, I got the club jumpin'
Yea yea, I got your bitch jumpin'
Ah yea, I got the club bumpin'
Yea yea, we from the valley from the

Thug love babe that's all I need
Running up all the cash
While you wipe my nosebleed
I want you to do it shake that ass baby
While I smoke on that green
N sip on my lean



Credits
Writer(s): Mario Cavazos Iii
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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