1 On 1 Talk With God

There's no unity no more.

So when there's no unity, there ain't no bosses, there ain't no niggas to tell the little niggas they fucking up.

Ain't no niggas to tell the older niggas they out of line. So, you know, the industry fucked up

I know how to get a win, I done took a loss before I done been a worker, middle man, and a boss before I ain't have no money or no cars, had to walk before They say that the broke ones be the loudest, I don't talk no more Face why you don't call my phone? What the fuck we talking for?

I already cut you once and your friends talk too much And I had a chance to spin the globe and build a real roster I should go and buy a tiny globe and turn it to a closet Backstabbing, trailing all the lies turned me to a monster Bagging something new off the lot and I forgot to vlog it

Take your shoes off for this eggshell white carpet Come on down, know the price is right, feel like Bob Barker

They want credit for the shit that they supposed to be doing I bumped my head a few times, nobody coached me through it Drain you 'til there's nothing left when them vultures get to you Yeah, hats off, stop capping, hands up, Black Panther

Flexing but the message to the haters, look at me, I'm having Ask myself where would I be if I stopped rapping Knowing damn well I'd be somewhere trying to make it happen Niggas get the paper and fall off and can't control the habit Me, I got the money and spent down, couldn't control the wagon I'm doing good, can't complain, nigga, thanks for asking You know the pressure, that's what make you, shit like

March Madness

You know the pressure, that's what make you, might be a diamond These boys don't want it how I know 'cause they ain't even trying Just to get in the room with us, -they'll be inside -You know, all these fucking niggas, you know, a nigga see a nigga, he got a thug image, okay, we're gonna make him a gangster rapper. In the whole city telling everybody, fuck the Bloods, fuck the

Crips, fuck this East Side, fuck the West Side

Gave a sermon to myself about what God been doing Little shit I go through and how I hide it in music Had a long talk with God about what I been doing If I get to stay alive, what is my improvements?

Little battles that I had and the times I lose 'em How the world was never mine, I'm designed into it It's a struggle either way, it's 'bout the eyes you choosing Only goal was dumb money, got us stuck on stupid Hope you hope to see us fine, it's a crime not to Hope you hope to see us fine, it's a crime not to Hope you hope to see us fine, it's a crime not to

Hard to meet you, easy to not know you again In this game we in, they fake a fan, pretend friend, it never end Ulterior motives, interior coded Interior decorations made by my ho They was thinking I'm patiently waiting, I'm chasing more We gonna die on different days, so where we racing to go?

I had to learn to check myself before I ever check the score Now I appreciate my checks, but

I blew those too though Who bro?

Who knows the way he move culo She little bro, Juno ain't got a lot of judo He used to do the foo though, still want his kudos Have you dead noodle, you know how they do you In this world of ours, ain't no girls as ours

You know they change with the season when the world revolves You can't control nobody, just control the dog shit Can't control what happened, barely know what -caused it -But you ain't that nigga.

You going home to your big ass crib every night, going to sleep, while these little niggas out here killing each other.

And you tell a nigga to get money, but you ain't tell a nigga the rules. So he get money, then he get fucked up, and he telling his man