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wise guy - marcolen hayes lyrics

(hook)
in this dirty game keep your head n*gga we don’t feel the pain // get your weight up realize money over fame // dollar bill dollar bill i need my change //in this dirty game keep your head n*gga we don’t feel the pain // get your weight up realize money over fame // dollar bill dollar bill i need my change //

(verse 1)
everyday s a different dollar we may not see tomorrow // how you steady in some beef but your guns you have to borrow // all about my presidents minus the jimmy carters //cause when the feds run up we telling them n*ggas nada // just like qbs finest been spitting since ochie wally // so when you see a young g better approach em proper // been a wise guy 45 next to the pasta // where we bow our heads dinner table full of them mobsters// remember the first time laid my eyes on a single blocka // my cousin from up north was like this that speaker knocker // taste of the bass got the brokest n*ggas living larger // don’t get ahead of yourself for a early departure // the day you think you ain’t slipping that’s when them n*ggas caught ya // for all the reason s in the world weed , white women and water // all my people in the jungle n*gga dying of thirst // so when you hear about hazey baby i’m supplying it first //

(verse 2)

n*ggas want to move these mountains counting bands by the thousand // get out they mama crib and stay away from public housing // spit that hot sh*t sip the youth out of the fountain // make a couple flips whatever ya eyes see the amount is // errbody wants to be the bad guy i say the bad guy // shorties drinking fortys in the gutta he was baptized // booming all these goods made his money off the crack high // living out his dreams at least his dreams he didn’t downsize // everybody wants to be the wise guy i say the wise guy // frank white i love the dough my n*gga he got to get fly // keep it g code is how everyday he’s gon live by // never depend on people that’s how you get off on mistrial // hit a couple liqs while he was heading down midtown // meet with a murda mami bet that pusey he gon k!ll now // every stroke she throw it back she gona make him feel now // left his gun in her dresser them boys run up told him get down//

- marcolen hayes lyrics

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