Than a pound, right? (FOREVEROLLING)
Tell 'em how before you was an opp you was a- (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Nah, that don't sound right
They know Newburg niggas have more dog than the pound, right?
Tell 'em how before you was an opp you was a fan, right?
Had to move to units, I wasn't cut out for the gram life
Paperwork and bread right
Shootouts and my hands nice
I knew it was raw when it was stickin' to the pan tight

I turned Tubman to a mid-grade hub
Booty prices from my plug, baby, catch it when it comes
Swear you good, tell the fuzz you ain't know it was no drugs
If you lie in front the judge, then I know it's real love
I'm from the 55 where it's fuck whoever's outside
My generation taught 'em how to rob and how to bust on it
If they don't do nothin' else, I know they gon' respect Con
This shit ain't been the same inside the neighborhood since you left, Quan
They let Gs in heaven, then I know my niggas finessed God
Niggas' people get to gettin' shot, they wanna press pause
Dead'll pop a bar and go and shoot a nigga just 'cause
They was outside clutchin' when it was up, I'm glad we bust ours (bust ours)

Nah, that don't sound right
They know Newburg niggas have more dog than the pound, right?
Tell 'em how before you was an opp you was a fan, right?
Had to move to units, I wasn't cut out for the gram life
Paperwork and bread right
Shootouts and my hands nice
I knew it was raw when it was stickin' to the pan tight
Nah, that don't sound right
They know Newburg niggas have more dog than the pound, right?

Accident shooters act like they ruthless once they finally do it
How you gon' shoot me and cop deuces, is you gangster or coochie?
I told Dead no drive-by shootings, I want everything movin'
Feds loomin' and beef was brewin' while I'm laid up wounded
I been prayin' one of my shooters find they way to your noodle
How to get away with murder, you can't find it on Google
Tired of waitin', would you slay your partner for violatin'?
I told Casey, "If I ever snake him nigga, go and spank me"
I'ma stick to the code, on my soul, but I'm not a patient
Big bro just got home and I put him in situations
He like, "Fuck it, you my brother, my nigga, I'm obligated"
You my mama's favorite, no disrespect will be tolerated

Nah, that don't sound right
They know Newburg niggas have more dog than the pound, right?
Tell 'em how before you was an opp you was a fan, right?
Had to move to units, I wasn't cut out for the gram life
Paperwork and bread right
Shootouts and my hands nice
I knew it was raw when it was stickin' to the pan tight
Nah, that don't sound right
They know Newburg niggas have more dog than the pound, right?

Copyright: Songtrust Ave, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): George Stone III, Jeffrey Lynn Jones Jr.