I been itching for a plot, yeah
But ain't no waving cannons on my block, no
7th Ward Lord, take a shot, yeah
I'ma keep my head down (Don't give a fuck)
Switching scripts, they're never in
The same spot, yeah
Fuck this music shit, I'm itchin' for a plot
Yeah ain't no, ain't no fucking
Digit's on my clock, no
I ain't one of y'all, just let me rot, yeah
I was just with Peep in London
Still feel like I don't exist at all, no
Fuck this social gathering
I'ma smoke a square out in the fucking hall
Yuh they told me watch out for the snakes
But they forgot about the plague
And the AK and with Lil Remains
And the AK and what little remains
What little remains

Hold up, hold up, hold up
Had to put down the narcotics
But I ain't really stopping
Xanny and Suboxone
Stay up in my wallet, on the block
Catch the Glock shoes hanging like a cord
Not a tour, 7th Ward
Magnolia brown, Soulja Slim to the bone
Hot boys, prime-time
Dotted line, never signed
On the drugs, can't doze
If I do be exposed, oh no
Chopper city, dead bodies
Alligators, disembodied
Did the crime, not the time
Lil jit's on the porch grippin' Nines
Grippin' Nines
Pull that torch, light 'em up (Yuh)
Young as twelve, livin' hell
Lil Remains, Yung Plague
No respect given 'less you steal or you take
Ho

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Aristos Petrou, Scott Arcenaux