Credits
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Charles J. Scott
Songwriter:in
Martín Maldonado
Songwriter:in
Lyrics
I'm out here shuckin' and jivin'
Don't give a fuck I'm drinking and driving
I'm ready to end my life so how much you think I care bout the one that you're having
I'm in love with all my bad habits
Swear I'm jumping like rabbits
From bad bitch to bad bitch
Never settle for less than average
Flowy the tool man I got all these hammers
So I nail everything never fail
Fuck every bitch till she yell
Like she screaming for help
I eat these bitches out leave a review on Yelp
I'm a fucking vibe just me and myself
I get what I want
And I give you hell
Hard body dawg
I hardly
Feel any pressure
Unless its from myself
Weighing my skill
Need a massive scale
I sit and I dwell
Smile and chuck the deuce up
Like I chugged the whole bottle by myself
I
Lost the whole flow
But yet here I go
No control
It's clear y'all never cared for me
Only wanted the benefits that came with me
Cuz I take care of my own like family
Choosing your friends
How you choose enemies
Cuz everybody that's hurt me
Been someone near to me
So it's fuck everybody that ain't here with me
My son's skin lighter than a bitch
But I made sure to carve
Every inch of a black man that's featured on him
Lineage on him
A little privilege on him
He is who I am with less ceiling on him
But he'll be proud some heritage on him
He'll never ever think to kill his own
Never feel the need to sell his soul for some gold
Never be ashamed to call his own seat a throne
I done seen hearts turn cold
When the grieve is over
The beef be over a bag of beans and soda
The peace is over
Can't knead the closure
Can't keep it kosher
A friend is killed now the cycle's closer
Cold seems the shoulders
Tension builds in the hood to boulders
Moral is lower
No respect for older
Elders it's seldom
All the OGs gone
Now the cancer the dance of bullets have grown
Shambles the city
Can't call it home
Cuz greed and malice reap what we sow
We greedily tend to keep what we owe
At the very least love is what we should throw
Address our mistakes so we can cope
Then maybe in the hood we can have some hope
And our babies could see how far they can go
Written by: Charles J. Scott, Martín Maldonado