Anything

(album: Deeply Rooted - 2015)

For a dollar bill, people will do anything
They'll rob and steal for a dollar bill, yeah they will
Yeah, just gon' sit back and let the beat ride for a lil' bit
Let a mo'fucker hear what it's suppose to sound like, ya dig

Yeah, I'm from around the way
I slung, about a ounce a day
I'm living proof, you ain't got no excuse
If it was there, you ain't got shit to lose
Them older cats, would chunk a nigga fronts
We rocked it up, and smoked that shit in blunts
For tennis shoes, we was getting fools
We caught you slipping, we would get at you
With no respect, fuck a nigga set
We shot it up, and murdered his connects
What's yours is mine, for a dollar sign
I blame the grind, I was out of line
I'm reminiscing, on what niggaz did
For big rewards, you took a bigger risk
They say what comes around, go around
And when you least expect it, shit be going down

Gotta get it how I live, that's how the streets raised me
And for that paper, most niggaz do anything anything
I'm selling dope so that's how I move, I'm a street made G
Not trying to lose, so I gotta do anything anything

They called it murder, in the first degree
And it was then, that it occurred to me
This was some inside shit
That was your friend, got hit huh
They knew, all about the stash spot
Knew where the money was, and cashed out
You got the nerve, to act like you don't know
When all the while, you steady getting mo'
Just remember dude, we watching you
I spared your life, the day they shot at you
Cause if I didn't, they was coming back
To finish off your ass, you the walking dead it's a fact
You slimy niggaz, play the game wrong
Get locked can't do they time, so they sing songs
I turn the game on, watch the Knicks play
I sent them shockers at you ass, cause you are bitch made nigga

Gotta get it how I live, that's how the streets raised me
And for that paper, most niggaz do anything anything
I'm selling dope so that's how I move, I'm a street made G
Not trying to lose, so I gotta do anything anything

Real nigga, in your presence
Money couldn't change me, past or the present
Homie I'm the essence, tote a smith-n-wesson
Eyes hella tiny, in the hood is where you find me
Out here with the grimy, bitches wanna come up
Niggaz slanging snow packs, nose running from em
Let you get your mind right, homie on that weed though
Baby on the molly whops, blinded by the weed smoke
We come from them streets hoe, I stay on that ig'nant shit
Ain't nothing bout me weak hoe, always game to stomp a bitch
And stomp a bitch and stomp a bitch, got a super boxing game
So I prefer to punch a bitch, mission accomplished
Put me up against whatever, I am busting it
A nigga'z born, hustling and tussling
And struggling, and muscling
Just making you aware, of who you fucking with...