Fire In The Booth, Pt. 1

Ever hit a nigga with some work and he dead you?
That ain't the same energy he had when he begged you
My crackhead uncle used to steal from his nephew
Now when he ask for cash I just say God bless you
Six figures a year offa pipes and addicts
But I could double that now with one flight to Dallas
Rolled with a scale and weighed it out, right in traffic
I used to cop bad work because the price was average
Somebody get clipped, they think I paid for the bounty
Ask these record execs if I was paid 'fore they found me
Really getting the cake, Michigan plates on a Audi
To a nigga getting stocky eating trays in a county
Niggas spend they money on jewellery, ain't knocking 'em
They scary though, if it ain't a video, they ain't rocking 'em
Private chef, New York strip, steak and tilapia
Private jet, did shit niggas ain't think was possible
Like I hit the lotto, spent the bag on a trip
Six or seven thousand just the tag on the fit
I sent her outta town with some cash and a kiss
So she don't even ask what I stashed in the whip, mm
Real block boys gon' supply him in person
Ten niggas on one block tryna find 'em a purpose
So just to triple my chances went to hire some workers
Really ain't shit changed, they just buy 'em in verses
It's hard to sympathise when they tell me they feel like quitting
Put in half the work I did but they want the cribs that I live in
They bought half the work I bought but still want the price that I'm getting
And I did everything but die just to live this life that I'm living
Honourable or militant, it's hard when your bands dwindling
My first robbery, I pointed my can with my hands trembling
Went from Super Bowl week every year to the stand snitching
Got half your childhood friends sitting in San Quentin
Break bread for what? I'm from where hoes willing to fuck
Long as you selling weight and Ace spill in your cup
They get famous on Twitter and think they litter than us
But them lines ain't witty enough, my prices really went up
For bitches, y'all Rez Havens, y'all niggas just spectators
I went hard and I came out sharp a Gillette razors
That disrespect paper and spin a connect paper
That's how you end up with a smile on your neck later
Since they wanna shine I'm copping them gold caskets
Y'all little bastards be so backwards, I'm old fashion
Had dope addicts, plus my phone had coke traffic
I was good at more than one sport like Bo Jackson

Plugs 2 nigga, yeah
Fire in the crib man
Fuck Covid, you know what I'm saying?
Long live every black king man, long live George Floyd man
Long live Michael Jackson, Plugs 2
Long live Chine Gun, yeah
Charlie Sloth, you already know what it is man
Plugs 2, we on the way