You gotta stay sharp out here
You gotta stay in the loop
Can't do what you did yesterday (Heatmakerz)
If you wanna live tomorrow (Crack Music)
Uh huh, Jones

It's not a weapon they can form
Against me that will prosper (Pray for me)
I been whippin' foreign Bentleys
With an ill posture (Skrrt, skrrt)
Selassie, I know some deadly rastas
I been dancin' with the wolves
It's like Kevin Costner (You hear me?)
Bakin' up them cakes
It's like Better Crocker (Fact though)
I can give it to you hard
If you already rock it (How you want that?)
But keep it low 'cause you know you
Don't want the feds to pop up
On the real, with all this money
Only the feds can stop us (Chill)
On birthdays was the worst days (Woo)
Now I might pop eighty grand on a Thursday
(Count that up)
Two-point-two pounds is what the birds weigh
(What that weight?) if I'm a pastor
Please tell me what the church say (Amen)
Heard you, be cool when I swerve through
Call them goons up
Them niggas gon' purge through
I done lived through things
That might disturb you (Disturb you)
Facts

Promise, this ain't the life you lookin' for
(Nope) searched my car but I don't
Know what they lookin' for
Secret indictments and I don't know
What they took 'em for (Damn)
I seen mommy in the kitchen
She was cookin' raw (Uh oh)
The traphouse with the trap door
(Skrrt skrrt) packed house
Now we comin' through the backdoor
(Whip it up)
It was black tops, rockin' the black 4's
Now we hoppin' out of drops
With the matte doors

Nah, that title does not fit you (Nah)
The culture is not with you (Uh, uh)
Your verses are not scriptures (No)
I was a first and fifteenth block clicker
(I was) in the spot with the blicker
The plot got thicker (Yes)
I only indulged in weed then, not liquor
(That's it) tried to have the best work
And finish my rocks quicker (I got it)
Prices got cheaper
(yeah) , the hill's all mine (All mine)
Now the work that I'm touchin' could
Get me some real time (Raw)
I kicked it with the Lord
He sent me some real signs (Thank you)
I started to record
I wrote with some ill rhymes
It's a love and hate thing
I'm dealin' with real lines
Now it's two guns up
So I got the concealed nines
They wait for you to die
Then they label you a legend
I'm debatin' on a new M8 or the X7 (Fire)
Figure either one'll be a good look (Yes)
Count my blessings
Get my lessons out the Good Book

Promise, this ain't the life you lookin' for
(Nope) searched my car but I don't
Know what they lookin' for
Secret indictments and I don't know
What they took 'em for (Damn)
I seen mommy in the kitchen
She was cookin' raw (Uh oh)
The traphouse with the trap door
(Skrrt skrrt) packed house
Now we comin' through the backdoor
(Whip it up)
It was black tops, rockin' the black 4's
Now we hoppin' out of drops
With the matte doors

Uh huh, look
Fifty pointers in the chain just
To hide the pain (Bustdown)
Tryna count up all this money
Probably wreck my brain (Probably will)
Free that nigga Nef and free that nigga Mane
(Free my niggas)
Lose all my niggas to the system
Probably go insane (It's Philthy)
Real street nigga, worked a few M's
(Sem City Money Man)
Rappin' real street shit, dropped a few gems
(Ayy, did you catch that?)
I know them niggas mad I'm in a new Benz
(I know they mad)
Fuck it, spend another dime on some new rims
(It's Philthy) niggas from my hood died from
Niggas from my hood (Swear to God)
But everything I learnt came up out the hood
(Seminary) i took my niggas with me
Straight up out the hood (Solid)
But they'll call you fake
You make it out the hood (It's Philthy)
Bitches turn sour, nigga turn snake
(Is that right?) they shuttin' off the power
When the payment late (You know they is)
When you broke niggas love you
When you rich they hate (Pussy)
They plottin' on your death
Tryna set a date, it's Philthy

Promise, this ain't the life you lookin' for
(Nope) searched my car but I don't
Know what they lookin' for
Secret indictments and I don't know
What they took 'em for (Damn)
I seen mommy in the kitchen
She was cookin' raw (Uh oh)
The traphouse with the trap door
(Skrrt skrrt) packed house
Now we comin' through the backdoor
(Whip it up)
It was black tops, rockin' the black 4's
Now we hoppin' out of drops
With the matte doors

Copyright: Songtrust Ave, Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): PHILLIP ANTHONY BEASLEY, PHILLIP BEASLEY, UNKNOWN WRITER