2am in Montgomery

You've been listening to me No For the same reasons We're soldiers Soldiers don't go to hell, It's war Soldiers, they kill other soldiers We're in a situation, when Everybody involved knows the stakes And if you're gonna accept those stakes.. You gotta do certain things That was word from Tony Sopranny RB heir to the throne, you know sorta like Bronny Bitch don't play with my gangsta, fuck around and get put behind me Nigga don't speak on my partners, know that they hopping out right beside me I talk to my pops the other day, I feel like I'm scared of marriage She look me right in the eye, and ask me why, I felt embarrassed Hard to explain, to match these words to how I feel You ain't got ADHD ion know why the fuck you take them pills But you got anxiety so when you step with me, I tell you to chill The day I go on a drill, just follow my lead, stay on my heels My brother you not alone if you're going through something, just talk to me I done been through some shit too, if you open up I can relate, prolly Punching in, punching out in the booth, on my feet, like Ali Private parties in Buckhead Y'all probably didn't hear about it It's not fake, It's real, exclusive to ones I fuck with RB real, day one, I ain't never been handed no script When you talk out of turn, forget you, like it left from CeeLo lip When you pop your shit, they might swing Nigga, don't forget to slip After I fuck, take care, yeah that's that Drake pimp If I can do it, you can too, cause back in the day I was simp Me and my bro, we one of the same, I'm talking cat-dog We rolling up flame, choppin' game, if I get too high I nod off I don't recall if it was Pink or Fenty, I told her just take it off Before we even get that far, the game start between your jaws Don't go through this phone, I'm telling you now you might have a seizure Don't tell the truth about your body count, I might just leave you Don't press me bout smoking no gas, that's my leisure Don't touch no chain on my neck, before I get you it might freeze you She even fuss on the holidays, lil' Miss Ebeneezer If I leave her I don't need her, finna make this bitch a believer Plenty niggas was lit in grade school, now they losers They threw the book at him He ain't take the plea, now he looking stupid I'm talking to bro on the celly phone, it's hard we talking over static I'm trying to keep his spirits up, brotherly love he have it Niggas running around, trying to prove who the biggest savage I never got caught up in that, all it do is just add to the baggage