Half A Bird E

Uh, yeah. I took a half ounce, Turned it to a half a bird. Wait, wait, look, look, look. I took a half ounce, turned it to a Half a bird. At the Death Man House on 103rd. Yeah, uh, ghetto nigga with ambition. All I cared about was hustlin', all I cared About was crippin'. East side of the hundreds. The opps come writin' on the walls and we Go back bustin'. Bruce Wayne, AKA Duron. Niggas dissin' on the net, what is you on? I call a spade a spade and a fade Is a fade. A good look and real business Is two different things. I be in meetings the niggas scared to talk In or even walk in. They say I wouldn't get the budget, but I Got it. I'm recoupin' like crazy. Big royalty checks attached to my statements. Man, we makin' movies around this motherfucker, You know what I'm sayin'? Comin' up from nothin', straight up out the ghetto, Havin' nothin'. Next day, havin' a million dollars Cash. What you know about that? Only the real ones know, it's only a handful Of us, you know I'm sayin'? Pocket full of Blue strips. Blue rag hangin' out the left pocket. I know my nigga from Harlem can relate. Thirty crates around my neck, it wasn't hard to Tap. One of my closest caught a body, was Never offered bail. I told his lawyer, "Try and Appeal," they tried to work a deal. We never squealed, just hold that down no matter How you feel. Man, busted knuckles, couple fades Just from association. Overanxious, on the Glock like a hoe in Vegas. I chose greatness over impatience for them blue Strips. Me and a few crips know if you Broke, we ain't got no relations. Troll, I watch, uh, smoke a dime out a Soda can. I used to sip purple and yellow, I'm still a Kobe fan. Pussy slowed down outside, That shit on OnlyFans. Gotta go get it right now, might be your Only chance. Half an ounce to a half a bird. Rockstar on the track, Captain Kirk, I just add It, word. I know this bitch thinkin' Birkin if I go grab a purse. Drop my new shit, pick up a hundred racks On merch. A hundred Rico, you know the root Of evil, Ben Franklin. Ulysses Grant, Andrew Jackson Got us impatient. Dead presidents make a nigga Lorenz Tate it. With white paint on our faces, You see a friend shake it. Shout out my nigga Shady Boy from Harlem. Shout out my nigga G-Sna, Broadway. Tony C-Bone, Broadway. You know what I'm sayin'? Young Coley, Broadway. Shout out my nigga C-Loc from Harlem. You know what I mean? Shout out my nigga TG from Harlem. LA Said from the way, you know what I Mean? Fat Head, Drook. Shout out my nigga Dave East. Nigga, Harlem to LA, we gettin' it, Man. Million dollar shit, baby