JFK2

I'm tryna get my life on point
Like a fuckin' pencil
I told shorty we could leave
That was back in November
But she ain't believe me tho
She left me for another nigga
But it's okay
Cause I'm still focused on the skrilla

I was bout to do some hot shit
Just to cool my temper
But the money that I'm making
Made a nigga reconsider
And they say life is sweet
But it's really bitter
Long Live Chubby G, Ni, Loco
Man I miss y'all niggas

Used to put the lean in the chokehold
Now I'm on that liquor
Water my pockets, they grow
Yeah they getting bigger
And I be blowing trees
Like a fuckin' twister
Niggas said it was beef
But they scared of my sister

Had to put extended clips
On all my fuckin' pistols
Stuffing shells in the clip
Like a fuckin' swisher
And all my niggas got stripes
Man they too official
Like a referee
We blowin' like a fuckin' whistle

I'm just a lost soul
Tryna find my way through the life
In the studio, no pen or paper
I write with the mic
In my city all you hear is shots and sirens
Through the night
I kill a pussy like I'm Michael
But I beat it like Mike

She let me fuck her to some Marvin Gaye
Niggas fake
Can't let them find out where I stay
Freshly cut grass
Gotta watch out for all snakes
I looked my demon in the eyes
He took my heart away

I didn't run from the bullets
Like I was tryna get hit
Lil'Cuz right up beside me
He ain't even up to four-fifth
Granddad outside with the nine
He made that nigga soul lift
And the plug tried to give me the AR
With duct tape on the clips

But I'm at war with my mind
Tha shit y'all say don't bother me
Niggas act like they can't drive
When I'm tryna cross the street
It's gon' be a foul on the play
You think about crossin' me
Bullets flying in a line
They'll floss your teeth