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Dave East

Talk To Big

 

Talk To Big

(albüm: P2 - 2018)


I got niggas that's never coming home
Bitches say they love my music, don't know none of my songs
I guess poverty changed me, I was a decent kid
I was rece' in bed, I had a dream I could speak to Big
Harlem, ain't nowhere like it
I fell in love with new records 'cause all my homies liked it
Chick from parole was light-skinned
She got my bro indicted
Now he up north, I write him
Trust me I know the prices
Looked at my homie lifeless
I need some shit I can feel, nobody touch me
I say I'm meant to be here, the doctors say that I'm lucky
My cousin was a custy, he used to stick up to get high
He robbed a corner bodega on camera, had to sit five
Came home talking that jail shit
He got his weight up like niggas is frail
But still he just couldn't sell shit
Youngins got the block sewed up like rugby patches
They hate you when you go get it yourself, they love you asking
Know you starving, they throw you rations
Wonder why his stomach grumbling
Shawty come from nothing, ain't never have shit
His father in the mountains, his mother just want a pill to make
The only motivation he ever had was to steal a bike
Something in his system was different, just wasn't feeling right
4AM phone call, his cousin got killed tonight
He tryna double back on the last time he heard his voice
Can't be indecisive, these streets will help you to learn your choice
Back to Bentleys, back to the trenches nigga
My digits bigger, I smoke with Nas and I build with Jigga
A true artist, you could never paint a realer picture
Convinced your sister to twist her, just had to spill some liquor
A new rapper, ask 'bout new rappers, I don't feel them niggas
I chill with women, they chill with niggas, they different niggas
In the field so long, these Timberlands, made a killing in them
I benefitted from plenty hitters, they still my niggas
When Master P was yelling ice cream man
My uncle got caught with nineteen grams
If you don't like me, damn
How you gon' hate me, I ain't had shit in the 'frigerator
Now it's royal silk from molded bread and spoiled milk

I know they gon' hate y'all
I know they gon' hate y'all
I know they gon' hate y'all

The time it took me to make it here
Tell me how the fuck I'ma make it fair for a hater
I know these niggas ain't playing fair
Murder let you know this shit is real and we can take it there
Can't afford them Jordans, had to take a pair
I done seen the toughest niggas freeze up
Hammer just left 'em shaking there
This shit feel like a lion tryna race a bear
You niggas'll never catch me, it's probably gon' take a year
Top ten, bitch I'm locked in, like Jamaican hair
Headshots, used to be a scope, I put a laser there
Put newspaper on the carpet, air who walking
I don't trust these voices talking or the walls in my apartment
It's getting darker, pistol under the parka
Imagine, pouring Fruity Pebbles and roaches fall out
Make you wanna go to court, shoot the judge before you walk out
Make you wanna eat a nigga food, just pull a fork out
I be doing push ups in my cell before I talk 'bout
Anything we involved in, criminal code
Ex-bitches ready for war, they some militant hoes
Coke in the flesh, this that shit you feel in your nose
You college niggas come see how it feel to chill with a pro
Could never compare, you don't know how it feel to be broke
Just tryna get high, niggas you feed and stealing your smoke
Can never punch her but when I fuck her she still can get choked
First verse was the struggle, I bubbled right off a ink ball
Eight ball with all black diamonds, I bet they hate y'all
That money, know they gon' hate y'all

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