The Bottom Line E

Uh. Yeah. Close. Uh. Don't call it a comeback. What? Sleep on Fatboy, get slumped back. Train gotta stay moving, that's why I stay on Track. Back fresh face, no smile, like a mace. Spice the track, get a taste of this jalapeño Rap. Life's like chess, get your whole team capped. Shit is loaded, blood splatter when the shit get Out of order. I order, splash up the track Like water. Quench your thirst, helium head, Get your dome burst. My boy Dirt aim cannons At your face, faggot. My dudes drips, let off A clip, let the.40 rip. My dude chill, bout them dolla dolla bills. Yeah. My boy Pablo, OG, moves low. Me, I'm masterminding my way up. Tryna get paid, and when I do, stay paid Up. Unnecessary beefs, most time I pass up. I'm tryna stay free so I can cop the Porsche. The streets love the kids. Love Niggas wish they had our credibility. But they ain't live what we lived. Ain't been where we been. Uh-uh. Done what we did. Bottom line, niggas ain't even half of what we Is. The streets love the kids. Love us. Niggas wish they had our credibility. But they ain't live what we lived. Uh-uh. Ain't been where we been. Uh-uh. Done what we did. Yeah. Bottom line, niggas ain't even half of what We is. Coming for mine, whether it's a gun Or a rhyme. Summertime MCs hot some of the Time. I'm one of kind, ringtones, None of 'em mine. Five percenters call me God 'cause I'm something divine. Not of this world, y'all ain't fucking with I. Out for cheese like government lines. As hungry as I could be. Possibly, who want spar with me? Line for line, bar for bar, make you a Mockery. Cog and Squeeze, they're left where Hoffa Be. Menace to society, old dog Socrates. Walk around like I got a S on my Chest. Change a life with one line like a Pregnancy test. The closes, we the best of the Best. Ain't special effects. Once I kill, ain't no second attempt. Hardcore be the method of fresh. You can get it, this is real hip-hop, man, We rep to the death. The streets love the kids. Love us. Niggas wish they had our credibility. But they ain't live what we lived. Ain't been where we been. Uh-uh. Done what we did. Bottom line, niggas ain't even half of what we Is. The streets love the kids. Love us. Niggas wish they had our credibility. But they ain't live what we lived. Uh-uh. Ain't been where we been. Uh-uh. Done what we did. Bottom line, niggas ain't even half of what is. No time to lose. Being real, ain't nothing to prove. You catch a cutting when I pull the shank Out of my shoes. Sing the blues when the Late night call come from the corner. 'Cause niggas got jumped just like Little Jack Horner. My everyday life is trife expressed Musically. While frauds get the accolades, they Never been true to me. It's too much going On to worry about a song. Not played by a fake DJ who wears Thongs. Probably cry, you got stabbed in the face, say, "I been there." Got beef now and you get Wet like swimwear. Oil up the weapons of war, clean the cartridge. Soon as dark hits, we trying to bring the Carnage. Hollow tip bullets get laced in garlic. And as soon as it break your skin, you're Scarced. Bottom line, I hustled when I never had A dime. We're the closes of your casket, bastards Of the grind. The streets love the kids. Love us. Niggas wish they had our credibility. But they ain't live what we lived. Ain't been where we been. Uh-uh. Done what we did. Bottom line, niggas ain't Even half of what we is. The streets love the kids. Love us. Niggas wish they had our credibility. But they ain't live what we lived. Uh-uh. Ain't been where we been. Uh-uh. Done what we did. Bottom line, niggas ain't even half of what we Is. Bottom line is I'm on the top. You stacking the cop. I'm on the grind tryna smash me a block. In between that, I spit and lay a hot Sixteen. But my focus on the team tryna build A regime. Entertainment, it ain't what it seem. And I see it like this. I get a lane, I'ma squeeze in that bitch. Hand tight with the KY flow. I slip and slide inside the game locking any Mic I know. In between that, I'm all about Growth and prosperity. Dope, longevity, hoes, and Black Hennessy. Let's get rich together, long as they print them Presidents. There's a hustle we can pitch forever. Right now, I got bars and sour. I'm in Barnes & Nobles crushing on the ninth Law of power. In my finest hour, I recommend for you to toast to the campaign. Bottom line, we do the damn thing.