First 48
Lyrics
Brrah ayy, Quando Rondo, nigga
Dubba-AA Flex ayy, ayy, I say I'ma keep
It real on this one, nigga
Mook on the beats
No they don’t love me like how
They say the love me, nah
No they don’t love me like how
The claim the love me, nah
No they don’t love me like how
They say the love me, nah
No they don’t love me like how
The claim the love me, nah
Teardrops rollin' down my right eye
I bang my flag to the left
Fuck the fame behind my name
I know lil' Pappy gon' step
Metro police askin' questions thinking
We gon' confess
I did some shit inside my past
That I still don’t regret
I’m on they neck aimin' for head so
Ain’t no sense to wear a Teflon
Brand new Gucci slides from Saks on Fifth
You could get stepped on
Flowers get put on headstones
Quahfee my nigga dead and gone
Powder inside my nigga nose
Jayden think that I'm dead wrong
Befo' the cameras and the fame
I used to kick doors
You claimin' you got two to catch up
Wit' us you need six more
Hangin' out the window with
That choppa screamin' 6-0
Six niggas in the rental down to slide
We clutchin' six poles
Befo' the cameras and the fame every
Night I slept on Buddha couch
Steady prayin' my dreams come true so I
Could get the fuck out Buddha house
I know my gun I cannot move without
'Cause any minute we can shoot it out
Daddy wasn’t in my life
My momma smokin' dope by Rufus' house
Wrote my first rap locked in that juvenile
All I needed was a chance
Nobody showed no love to me when
All I needed was a hand
They took my nigga Quahfee from me and
All I needed was my mans down on my dick
Started hittin' licks 'cause all I
Needed was some bands
They claimin' loyalty is priceless
I feel I'm payin' for love
This for my niggas up in heaven
I shoot a flame up above
This for my niggas in them jail cells
I'ma bang for my thugs
This for them pussy motherfuckers
Steady showin' fake love
I'm in the valley of death
Conversatin' wit' the under gods
Screamin' out Never Broke Again
While clutchin' my rod
I know them pussy niggas hatin' 'cause
I beat all the odds
I had to separate the real from fake
The pros and the cons this for them streets
(yeah, them real niggas)
This for them Gs (And them Crip niggas)
This for them 'jects (Them H-Vill niggas)
And for the check (They gon' deal witcha)
That's a bet (We empty clips, nigga)
I swear to god that this
The life a nigga live, nigga
(Ayy) shots fired off from the Beretta
I got a house in Marietta
See, I ain't 'bout to do no talkin'
See, I don't wanna hear no lecture
I'm yellin' out, "We 'bout whatever"
You might as well take your last breath
Shots fired off, he on the stretcher (Rrah)
Ayy, check this out though
I made this song specifically for
A fuck ass nigga, my nigga
I just want that pussy ass nigga
To know this NH business, my nigga
And guess what though, I'ma buy
Your son a present too, bitch ass nigga
Tear drops rollin' down my right eye
I bang my flag to the left
Fuck the fame behind my name
I know lil' Pappy gon' step
Metro police askin' questions thinking
We gon' confess
I did some shit inside my past
That I still don’t regret
I’m on they neck aimin' for head so
Ain't no sense to wear a Teflon
Brand new Gucci slides from Saks on Fifth
You could get stepped on
Flowers get put on headstones
Quahfee my nigga dead and gone
Powder inside my nigga nose
Jayden think that I'm dead wrong
How the fuck you gon' beef
And you broke nigga? This Is The Sound
Answer that
Shouldn’t have spared that pussy ass nigga
Mama in the store that day straight up
Writer(s): AARON DAVID JR LOCKHART, BRAYON S NELSON, TYQUAIN TERREL BOWMAN
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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