Old Days

(album: Hood Bible - 2019)

I remember, they remember
[?]
They remember stealing steamers
Running with a nina
Hey, yeah

They remember my old days, now a nigga can't believe it
They remember cracking and trapping, stealing steamers
They remember me snatching runners, had to leave it
Thirty niggas, ten wars and one nina
Now every worker know me when I walk in Neymans
My shit fast, I'm scratching off in a demon
Your bitch bad, she fucking when I first seen her
Mama, you ain't got to stress it and I mean it
Mama, you ain't got to stress it
I'ma make it home even if I got to stretch it
Nigga play with man, I hope the Lord bless him
Stick on me, I ain't leave it on the dresser
My brother one of the dope dealers
Told him if he ever need me, I got a bag, you ain't got to stress it
Saw one of the opps, I'm 'bout to smoke him
My brother told me give him the gun, I ain't even got to catch him

Swiping them visas, phones and a liter
Ten of us sat on the block with one nina
Craving pop with tints, that my steamer
We ain't have shit, we starved, niggas ain't feed us
Ain't want a handout but, nigga, we the shooters
You was selling drugs, I was protecting the movers
How you ain't gon' feed the killers?
I risked my life, I woulda bleeded for niggas
Now I gotta read in the kiln
Now I got my own bag, you ain't coming near me
Uncle nene called me from jail, almost shot a Bentley
Parch coming through the mail, give it to the killers
Everybody got to eat, you know all my niggas felons
Drug out the cat, serving pills out the cat
Broke as shit with the gat, don't get killed tryna step
I remember we couldn't buy a meal in Iraq
I remember my brother got killed in Iraq
We was cracking them visas, ah, ayy
We was selling and reasons, yeah
We was trapping out the regal, yeah
Selling fentanol to our people, yeah
We did anything for the racks
I had to get it, two sons, I'm a dad
Selling that midget with no profit back
Now I'm on top, it ain't no looking back, yeah

They remember my old days, now a nigga can't believe it
They remember cracking and trapping, stealing steamers
They remember me snatching runners, had to leave it
Thirty niggas, ten wars and one nina
Now every worker know me when I walk in Neymans
My shit fast, I'm scratching off in a demon
Your bitch bad, she fucking when I first seen her
Mama, you ain't got to stress it and I mean it
Mama, you ain't got to stress it
I'ma make it home even if I got to stretch it
Nigga play with man, I hope the Lord bless him
Stick on me, I ain't leave it on the dresser
My brother one of the dope dealers
Told him if he ever need me, I got a bag, you ain't got to stress it
Saw one of the opps, I'm 'bout to smoke him
My brother told me give him the gun, I ain't even got to catch him

You ain't gotta stress, yeah
I got my stick on me, ain't leave it on the dresser