Reckless E

Yeah. Ayo, Tray man. D-Block! We gotta, we gotta chop this shit up And bag it. And sell it to, and sell It to the hood. Texas stand feel me? Let's Go. Weed burn and liquor pour, bitches calling me Daddy. I'm a thug,.357 straight out the Caddy. New Yorker, but my shooters fluent from the Natty. A hood bitch, slimmy, but her ass is fatty. I'm hot right now, my bars got a tank Top on. I'm a movie, all you missing is Some fresh popcorn. Levi's, Air Mags with a fresh Glock on. Reasonable Doubt, I was young getting my rocks on. Woo! Now I'm out in Texas with Trayda, Or either back home in the studio with Styles And Jada. Life's a gamble, cards is dealt. I put the metal in your bitch face like Raymond Felt, motherfucker. Fuck your mother if her son is a bitch. Five in the barrel, one in the head, 16 In the clip. Two guns. D-Block, nigga, steaming a Spliff. Promethazine, gunning on the lean in the Whip. I'd expect you to not fuck with me. All the shooters, they throw it up for me. This life's murder and luxury, talking to the gun In the car like it's my company. 12 rounds, no boxing, no glove. From a hood, no option, no love. No love. Gangsters don't die, mobsters don't buzz. But niggas do time. Niggas drop blood. Feel me. King, I'm on this hustle like I'm Searching for cash. I'm on this blocking position to Whip a whole nigga's ass. Damn right I got a fucked up thinker. Run your mouth pertaining to Tray, I'm dropping four In your blinkers. One in your stinker, overstand Until I'm jamming my finger. I hit the spot to shake it down and Have them begging like singers. I let this chopper go to clapping 'til it Sound like arenas. Back door with 745s like I Was shooting with Beamers. Black twins thick as Hell, call them Venus Serenas. Dirty nigga 'bout that business like he fresh out The cleaners. My nigga say he want the work, I ship him off with a pack. Yeah. Get him a sack. Whip in the back, Obsidian black. They fresh out The Shack, smelling Like crack. Get him a stack, I bet he React. Run off in the back, pussy nigga. Trip with me, nigga, I bet he react. It ain't gon' be no nine lives, know that, Cat, for real. Black strap, black ski mask, Black flannel. Standard, the rules of life are not Manual. Go 'head, keep waiting for America tan you. Discussing your life over shots of Jack Daniels. I-95 got the work in the back panel. 50/50, a slim chance, a fat gamble. Some niggas like to stay in the pocket, some Scramble. Go through the progression, hit the Target, blam you. Light something up with a freak And watch Scandal. They can't even get on they Feet, but can't stand you. Believe every chance they get, they're a man you. Allah will never give you nothing you can't handle. What? Can't Can't handle. Can't handle.