Paid Dues E

Aye. I woke up to a toxic vibe and Aroma. The feeling of nobody on my side or In my corner. The media been showing homicide's Gotta meet your quota. And when it's cold outside, Niggas ain't just dying from pneumonia. The hood got a meeting at the park discussing Politics. Before the conversation even spark, We hearing shots convinced. Enemies, they slid up on Foot just like some moccasins. Left bleeding out in some Air Max losing oxygen. Paramedics pick up the body, put him in a Dolly. Them niggas came back in them uzis, Choppers, and shotties. System set up, the Programmers, this not Pilates. Niggas getting X'd out like Malcolm, so it ain't Coming from no Nazi. Seen it all before, Klan on demons ride my Joy. Popping grease with my boys, seen police in Hunting that toy. Can't afford to lose, paying dues, Raising my roof. They doing the same thing I Do, feel like it's déjà vu. Feel my patience getting low. I ain't fucking with the news. Yellow tape, how I'm dealing with the blue. CC and BB, Bel Air shoes. I refuse to let my paper get low. Still ain't fucking with the news. Trading places, how in the same shoes. Switch the frame, still I got the same view. Paid dues. Yeah, uh, the hood took me under. At thirteen years old, pulling out guns and busting 'em. Me and my friends, we ain't kids no More. And since my daddy in the pen, I'm Just running with my locs, uh. Niggas in the meetings getting socked out. Any nigga that's a problem getting knocked down. The state or the feds, take your pick where You wanna go. You wanna gang bang or you Really wanna get some dough? I paid my dues to this blue shit. So when I re-engineer it, don't ever question what I'm doing. The penthouse got views, bitch's bent off Forty-two. Grand coupe on twenty-twos, it's a Twenty-twenty-two. I'm wearing suede Pumas, But my bitch in Jimmy Choo. Rest in peace to Lil Choo, Baby Gremlin fifty-two. Money on my mind, all I think about is Bread, nigga. I be like that 'til I'm a Dead nigga. Feel like my patience getting low. I ain't fucking with the news. Yellow tape, how I'm dealing with the blue. CC and BB, Bel Air shoes. I refuse to let my paper get low. Still ain't fucking with the news. Trading places, how I'm in the same shoes. Switch the frame, still I got the same view. Paid dues.