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[Verse 1: Creative Gold]
Look, I got so much shit on my mind
Hope I’m on the right path, Lord give me sign
Thinking bout my loved ones who ain’t get to see me rhyme
Thinking bout the fuck niggas I’m a mention in these lines
Far as friends, sorry, barely got any nigga
All these niggas sensitive as if they pottery nigga
Don’t get me wrong, got a heart
Keep that shit and money apart
Feelings and money don’t mix
Wanna hustle this how you start
Had to break it off with my old girl, fucking her ain’t really lucrative
I got a new girl but she be trippin’ too
Bout to hit her off with the same shit
Smokin’, I be drinkin’, all the above my nigga
If you listen, you thinkin’, I’m showing you love my nigga
I’m the best nigga that’s rappin’, this factual not opinion
Call Buffet up make a bet what’s up? I bet that nigga put up a billion
I don’t chill with niggas like I used to
I don’t use we like I used to
Cause these fuck boys gon be fuck boys and you realize when they use you
Want a verse from me nigga pay me
Want a show from me nigga pay me
I got lawyers now and a publicist
Nigga hell no I ain’t the same me
Pops wanna move to the west, Moms wanna open a school
Don’t know what my sister wanna do, but whatever it is it’s cool
Tryna pay for all of this shit, so all of you critics get off of my dick
Tuitions to pay, mortgages, cars, rent
I’m feeling the stress, no one to vent
Gimme the check and a bottle of Beck’s
I handle it, I’m a vandle bitch
Rap game Jimi Hendrix with a fucking spliff
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