My Own Way

Bank accounts, big cars
Living good like a movie star
My mama house ain't in the hood no more
I moved her out to Saint Louis Opispo
But it's a trip tough cause I'm a 20 Crip though
I gotta lay low, my homies wanna do low
I got two strikes and I'm gonna get my third
These niggas snitching on me
They think I'm selling birds
So when I'm in the streets
I'm quick on my feet
See talk is cheap so I stay quick on my heat
You niggers bad, well Dogg is badder
"Rat-a-tat!", make you niggas scatter
I was once shot, your boy want me now
Went to the station that, nigga straight point me out
So I'mma lay away and spray away
At this time I think it's best to just stay away

They say I am a fool
Cause I like to do my things my own way
I gotta couple strikes against me
One more and I am on my way
I ain't got time to hang around
In the hood like I was used to do
I gotta get my bread, keep my head
It's either go to jail or get this money instead

Separate, elevate
Concentrate, dominate, innovate
Try to be the flyest me
And every other homie tell a lie to me
I need a deal, I need some stones
I need some beats, Dogg, I need a loan
Help me out, throw me some cash
If I got it, you got it
You ain't got to ask
But on the real - or is it lately?
A lot of homies tried to implicate me
They say I changed; is it the fame?
If I throw it to you then charge it to the game
Money fold: overload
In the hood another episode
Man I'm getting old, the game cold
I'm from the hood, but that ain't how I roll

They say I am a fool
Cause I like to do my things my own way
I gotta couple strikes against me
One more and I am on my way
I ain't got time to hang around
In the hood like I was used to do
I gotta get my bread, keep my head
It's either go to jail or get this money instead



Credits
Writer(s): Calvin Broadus, Denaun M Porter, Horace Jackson, Armond David
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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