Lyrics:
buy if your money in discretion
We'll beat you and car jacks and leave you wit a concussion
We the gang, we mash and blast and maintain
Still the same
line
Too many rappers getting played by labels a deal ain't even Cross my mind (I ain't lying)
Industry all fucked up wassup with all these new lil
off her jaw
When I fight we ain't losin' we ain't takin' no draws
No fuckin' Boosie we gone set this bitch off
For a lil' price ass we can get you
me good ol face (Sloppy)
Fresh to death get the casket close it mane
I ain't lil Boosie but whip me down
I see you lil niggas y'all really clowns
Say
We've been trapping for the kwala for the dollar
Nor come close
I've been hitting and picking friends no jancrows
Planning and plotting geng, same old
Can't wait to bless gang wit few bands
Can't wait till we ducking them fans
Tryn make it as fast as I can
Outside and I'm stepping by my dolo
Lil baby she
takin' shit
Bitch, I ain't who you used to know (nope)
I done shot off to the moon, lil' ho (gone)
Still order me a 4 for 4 (for real)
Painted drank
1st and i play by the rules
When it’s war who gone pick and choose
Who gone wake em up and who gone let um snooze
I battle demons everyday and i don't
Like my old white man
And all his old white friends
Judged by my old white skin
One day I'll be an old white man
With old white money in the bank
whats going on
Tired of hearing the same song
Tired fucking the same hoe
Tired of rocking same clothes like that shit getting old to me
Make me say fuck
have fortune and fame
A mil' in the bank, chameleon paint turned cranberry
Now little Jermaine got the same story
As that boy out of St. Vincent-St
was misled by another lil' boy
and this is what he said
"Me and you, Guy, we gonna make some cash
robbing' old folks and making' the dash"
They did
was misled by another lil' boy
and this is what he said
"Me and you, Guy, we gonna make some cash
robbing' old folks and making' the dash"
They did
skating collecting payments
Airways all the way over to Third st I dodged a whole lot of cases
I slept in the bando right there by the tire shop into it wit
Servin' his lil partna from the
O and I'ma tax 'em (yeah)
Nigga turned on me, sipped out the same glass
So I sent the nigga from behind
And hit 'em up nasty
locals and New Yorkers
And the Brazilian Navy
By mini-moke and scooters
In cabs and stolen cars
Came the creatures of the evening
From St. Martin
than a painting
At le Musee de Beaux Arts
And simply what we did for fun
Back in the old St. Barts
Then the glitz and all the glamour
Hit like
We in the same game but don’t have the same rules
My old head dropped the same jewels
Make sure you clean it if you gotta use the same tool
Yeah I
getting this fetti
We in the Chevy and ready to pop tags in
[Chorus:]
So whatever you tryna do lil niggas I already done
And since you wanna live by
werk werk
for the cake cake cake
I know she don’t love me she don’t say it to my face
I got the same old dreams, the same old problems
Cannon like
1. Welcome to the 21st century
Welcome, welcome
21st century
2. 6 years - 6 nights
I wait six years - I wait six nights
Wind this rope - a second
And all these niggas do the same thing
But i cant ever be misled
Cause imma ride by myself
Dolo ain't acting funny
Cause I'm bigger and better
Young
and deville's
Got a green s class, ain't broke the door seal
Shit ain't been the same since i signed fo' reel
This shit got ill, when i hit 4 mill
Five
got the courage to believe
That if it has to be, then it's up to me
But for now, I'm just stuck in the same routine
Stuck in the same routine
St-St-st
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