Yeah, it is what it is man
Uh huh

Sirens flashin' you know the routine, the crime scene taped off
It started out a robbery, they blew half his face off
They seen him shinin', cross full of diamonds he bought grindin'
His foot slip off the ladder of success he was climbin'
The D's came through, askin' niggas if they know what happened
Somehow my name end up in anything that involves clappin'
Detectives at my mama crib, they say they wanna question me
They put me in a lineup last time and they arrested me
When it come to cookin' coke, they know I got the recipe
I turn a quarter to a half, that's why they mess with me
I'm the neighborhood pusher, I move packs to make stacks
A little weed, a little X, a little H, little crack
Figure, I'll push it to the limit, take the shit to the max
Navy blue vest on, navy blue Yankee hat
Calm, in my palm's fully loaded firearm
First to let off last to run, every time it's on

I tell niggas to suck my dick, get the fuck out my face
'Cause I don't need 'em
'Cause they're, never around, when I'm down
Shot and I'm bleedin'

(What? Nigga is there, is there a motherfuckin' problem nigga?)
(Oh, yeah that's what I, I thought so, pussy!)

Niggas be talkin' 'bout me, they always callin' me crazy
Fuck them O.G. niggas, they stuck in the 80's
Sayin they gon' do me somethin', now you know that's a lie
Nigga you look at me wrong I let the hammer fly
I'm rich, I still wake up, with crime on my mind
Queens nigga put it down like Pappy Mason in his prime
When I say move, nigga move, or get caught in the crossfire
I prevents runnin', cut my fuckin' hand on the barbed wire
This shit's crazy, it's just a different day it's the same shit
Hollow-tip partin' yo' head, leave your whole fuckin' brain split
They sick, they see me in that Aston Martin
What's the matter? They can't get that hooptie started
Thought they was grindin', well God damn, where that money at?
Thought you was fucked up, 'cause you was lettin' paper stack
You ain't a hustler, matter fact, you's a buster
I don't trust ya, I should send niggas to touch ya

I tell niggas to suck my dick, get the fuck out my face
'Cause I don't need 'em
'Cause they're, never around, when I'm down
Shot and I'm bleedin'

What? Who say they gon' do somethin' to me?
Must be out your rabbit-ass mind
Fuck around kill one of these niggas

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Anthony Best, Curtis James Jackson