Baby Money

5:47
(Yo, Nick Papz, make it slap) (Ayy, young, but he got that talent) Took a minute 'fore I did it, ain't think I could move weed Then I seen you spend a thousand, you can make like three G's Now I'm that nigga you see, all the plugs knew me He was just serving QPs, how he get with QC? And you probably couldn't get in these Amiris I done sat down in the trenches and sat down in the prisons And I always dodged detention 'Cause when they see you tripping when them bitches come and get you, I seen plenty niggas did it 'Cause my unc' and them was rich back in them wild '80s Passed down the gift, now I'm backin' in a 580 My mama rеnt due, my judge still tryna slay me Stand through it all and I just found out I had a baby I pray to God whеn they call us you ain't have no statement Cooperation mean your life gettin' confiscated They hit you with the RICO and it's an operation Money and hoes ain't gon' make up for that time you facing If it's trapper of the year, I bet I'm nominated A real hustler, I done turned a million pounds to shake You try to play me, gon' be morning by the time you wake Dropped out of school, but I'm always tryna find some pape' I get real money All I ask is loyalty and you don't steal from me He asking for a quarter ki' and he gon' kill somethin' Letras de cancionesI make the call, he shoot his shot like he Bill Russell I lost the closest people to me, I don't feel nothin' I shot dice since I was five, paid rent since I was eight Had a job when I was nine, I got fired, I was late Ask my mama, if I'm lyin', I can die the next day The NBA took too long, I had to find the next way Parents called before he died, it be fuckin' with my brain Ten minutes 'fore it happened, I couldn't tell what he was saying So how the fuck I stay sane? Nigga poppin' all these painkillers Shit is not the same, nigga, shit is not the same, nigga And they told me it get worse 'fore it get better I wish I had my nigga here so we could get cheddar The snow fall in the city, we gon' switch weathers Two niggas with a pistol, we some big steppers Tryna make out the M like we Chris Webber Tryna walk inside the bank with a big letter She tryna fuck the whole gang, boy, this bitch desperate You wanna get your clio up, you gotta get testers A hundred 'bows through TSA, the risk determine what you make We let the real done turn to fake, I'm tryna fill my heart with drank Three Percs in my body, I ain't been feelin' all the pain We all goin' through some shit is what I'm sayin' From Letras Mania