[Intro]
Yeah, for real. Long time, poor people are suffer. And check this: long time, we fighting. Even pull out gun for the food, see
[Hook 1: stic.man]
We ain't trying to hear shit but what? (Cash money)
The whole world operating off of (Cash money)
To all my niggas with a whole lot of (Cash money)
Watch yo' back money
[Verse 1: stic.man]
You couldn't never understand how my mind tick
I'm on some old school crime shit
When niggas sold two's to keep the dimes lit
Ain't no rules when these iron shots are stoned, dun
This heat burn through your flesh, straight to the bones
I reach for the Buddha, cess, and zone
I probably have a future of stress, stay depressed and be alone
But as far as the present time, it’s on
I represent mine ‘til I return to the essence and I'm dead and gone
Nobody wanna be broke—and you neither
Put me on the corner, watch me catch a quick case of cream fever
If you be popping shit, my niggas won't believe ya
Probably punch you in the face and take ya wallet when we see ya
But son, it gets deeper
I'm running with a clique that's being hunted by the grim reaper
To all my peoples in the man keeper, let your situation be a teacher
Ain't nothing like a education
When I was locked down, I learned about patience and dedication
And not to say shit, unless you need a motherfucking face lift
And as a youth, I was a outcast
Running ‘round with pellet guns playing war, but now it's all about cash
[Hook 2: stic.man]
I'm caught up, caught up in a mix of shit
And I ain't trying to hear shit, son, my crew got cash to get
Blast you with the pistol
If I have to, in my mind it’s all about cash in the fistful
I'm caught up in a mix of shit
And I ain't trying to hear shit son my crew got cash to get
Splash you with the pistol
If I have to, in my mind its all about cash in the fistful
[Verse 2: M-1]
Up late night and upset, and fed up
Niggas coming up, wet, I'm dead up
Fuck tryin’ to keep your head up
And when it go down, word bond, we gotta dead up
Too many locked down upstate, son, its a set up
My life has sped up many years—I'm straight up
Plenty beers for who ain't here and those who ate up
Test and get sprayed up in the club
We couldn't run it so we take the blade up in the booth
Since we couldn't shoot
We heat it up, losing the shirt, showing the bare chest
I'm blessed, puffin’ the skunk make me care less
The best that you can do is duck my fucking crew
If the slugs don't get ya, Lord J'll jig ya
Acting artificial get you burnt by the pistol
Before it’s done, even my guns'll turn to missiles
Don't have to blow the whistle on you
‘Cause everybody knows you gotta watch yourself around borderline psychos
Who know my people gotta hold a mint or they ain't worth a cent
How can you represent if you can't pay the rent
And leave a dent in my life time. I'm caught up in trife crime
In fights you never know what you might find
We stand firm meanwhile ‘cause niggas that seem wild
Be bucking blanks. If they was men they wouldn't fuck with pranks
I leave them niggas alone and stay home
Until it cool down as they remember how my tool sound
[Hook 2: stic.man]
I'm caught up, caught up in a mix of shit
And I ain't trying to hear shit, son, my crew got cash to get
Blast you with the pistol
If I have to, in my mind it’s all about cash in the fistful
I'm caught up in a mix of shit
And I ain't trying to hear shit son my crew got cash to get
Splash you with the pistol
If I have to, in my mind its all about cash in the fistful
[Hook: stic.man]
We ain't trying to hear shit but what? (Cash money)
The whole world operating off of (Cash money)
To all my niggas with a whole lot of (Cash money)
Watch yo' back money
[Interlude: stic.man]
Yeah, we up on what we dealing with. We ain't no criminals. We got the right to have gats. As long as the army, navy, air force, marines got gats, we gon' hold heat, know’m saying? ‘Cause our army gotta represent for us. Word up. Aiyyo, Maintain (Yeah). Set that shit, son
[Verse 3: Maintain]
Forever keeping my shit cocked for drama
Stainless steel, shit is for real
The way these rats is known to squeal, making sour deals
Thugs up in the mix to these drugs, caught up in the humble
Bricks and paper by the bundle how the Bronx rumble
[Plex spray?], devils get deaded, never regret it, only known to set it
Still in existence, obviously you jetted
Speak the desert, I see the pyramid and eagle
Back of the dollar bill, ill deceitful, we consider lethal
God falling, niggas be pouring, guzzling alcoholics
Two drinks, too many's like whitey infiltrating your fortress
Shit is on, we 'bout to form, best prepare for the storm
Y’all funny niggas quick to ring the alarm
Bomb fell, now a nation is gel
We had to dwell for four hundred or more
The Lord had the righteous living poor
Resurrecting the true and living back the power
Devils getting devoured, niggas heard the God holla
