(It's JoeFromYo)

I thought every girl I had was the one (uh, huh), but she was not it
Ninety nine percent of bitches be thottin' (thottin')
If I do the same thing, you'll say I'm not shit (not shit)
I could do the same thing, you'll leave cryin' (cryin')
Shit got a little deeper through the process (process)
Still addicted to the streets, can't hide it (hide it)
Walk around with two Glizzy's in my pocket (pocket)
Already cocked it, flip a nigga like a socket (socket)
Nigga, way before the fame we was wildin'
Then they killed my nigga Quado in the projects (projects)
And it's a shame, all the bitches that was curvin'
I see the same damn names in my comments (comments)

She was lookin' O.D. from her side eye
Said she ain't an eater, oh she lied, oh she lied-lied
Woke up to three bitches in my bed
Made me say it three times, "Oh you fine, oh you fine-fine"
I ain't rockin' with no ho niggas or bozo
That's a no-no, nigga, nah, nah
I know they love my fly, the way I rock Dolce and Gabanna
I lost my niggas to the streets when it coulda been me
It's fucked up, they either dead or doin' fed time
Oh, you all about your bread, so am I
If it's money on your mind, .45 to your hairline
And I keep it by the dresser
That's for any bitch who ever try to break my heart, I won't let ya
Still got blood on my denims
That was all the blood that was in him, no more love in a nigga

No more love in a nigga
But I swear her company made me so comfortable
I don't fuck with her (uh), the way she fuck with me
And it's probably because I'm from the X, where they take for respect
Thought I woulda been into the grave on my def
Same fit for a week, now I hate Nike Tech
Now I'm a trendsetter from my sweater to my hat
Biggs put me on the big ass purple Puma Jet
I'm flexin' more than ever, she like, "Money make me wet"
And if I die, I'ma die for my respect
Bury me with like a milly on my neck, ah

She was lookin' O.D. from her side eye
Said she ain't an eater, but she lie all the time-time
I woke up to three bitches in my bed
Made me say it three times, "Oh you fine, oh you fine-fine"
I ain't rockin' with no ho niggas or bozo
That's a no-no, nigga, nah, nah
I know they love my fly, the way I rock Dolce and Gabanna
I lost my niggas to the streets when it coulda been me
It's fucked up, they either dead or doin' fed time
Oh, you all about your bread, so am I
If it's money on your mind, .45 to your hairline
And I keep it by the dresser
Just in case a bitch ever try to break my heart, I won't let ya
I still got blood on my denims
That was the blood that was in him, no more love in a nigga

Run through it, all the bands that a nigga got
I wonder, if the streets still care about me
Long story, I can never really talk about it
I'm numb to it, I stand still when I hear shots
I'm numb to it, I stand still when I hear shots
I hear niggas talkin' 'bout the money that they don't got
I used to be up on the corner with my young akh
Now I go buy a couple pounds of the fronto
I still smoke it by the pound, I get dumb high
I still smoke it by the pound like a rasta
I send money to my niggas sittin' up, yeah
I send money to my daughter, she's a rugrat
I been through it but I'm not givin' up, yeah
I switch up of different cars, now they upset

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC
Writer(s): Artist Julius Dubose, Damil Coste, Joseph Basil Zoumboulias