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outro (crabs in a bucket) - nines lyrics

[verse 1]
i knew how to stack my p’s when sh*t was slow
common sense, when my n*ggas popped bottles, fam, i didn’t go
id’s in the bush on a lonely strip
all i ever wanted was a phone that ripped
told them n*ggas on the block, “i’m gonna blow”
started rapping, how else would i wash up all this dough? uh
hope the price on the brick’s coming down
still paid extortion, if you don’t swim then you’ll drown, uh
still caught up in this dumb war
you know how much times i slapped up fiends for knockin’ my mum’s door?
my friend robbed my friend, now i gotta get his sh*t back
chasin’ all these young bucks ’cause they already split that
i was on the wing, moppin’ the floor
now i bring my whole block on my tour
no need to sell tops anymore
used to put half a brick in the pot
take a key out like i’m locking the door, uh
they couldn’t prove it but they knew we did it
i see b*tches sell their p*ssy for money then buy gucci with it
i seen a few n*ggas cross the line
way too many coon n*ggas lost their mind
i wasted years on the block tryna be a trap star
school days, i just started at the clock
it’s f*cked up how i’m still risking my freedom
trap phone ringin’ in these million pound meetings, let’s go

[interlude]
man’s really some crabs in a bucket out here, man
you seen my movie, that’s the watered down version
like, it’s way worse
come on
free the team, free my n*gga hydro
free cash, r.i.p zino, r.i.p stylie, let’s go

[verse 2]
my n*gga made a hundred k then he left the trap
i made mills and you can still come and get a pack
i’m in my own lane so i don’t care where they’re on the streets
or here before me and they’ll be there when i’m gone, uh
i had a thirty*eight before i bought a whip
like f*ck a bad b*tch, i need a normal chick
my n*gga [?] family till
we don’t follow rules, me and [?] still smoke cali’s in dubai
i barely rap, b*tch, i move keys
all these grown n*ggas acting like some groupies
they was in college, i gave food out to the smokers
i remember after parties, having shootouts with my lobsters
when i was down, the same guys, i couldn’t phone for nothin’
be the same n*ggas acting like i owe them somethin’ (f*ck them n*ggas)
i put in work on the strip, this ain’t luck
now i pull up, got them haters car sick like “yuck”
hating the way i’m gettin’ bread
like i won’t go in my safe, put some papers on your head
i’m a rap star but i’m on surveillance by the feds
and i only started trappin’ just to save up for a ped (imagine that)
you can tell i’m gettin’ old cah i f*cked celeb b*tches and never tell a soul
uh, ‘member when i lost that tp and i was nearly bruck
my n*gga doin’ life just called, i gotta cheer him up
it’s nines

[outro]
(zino records, hahahaha)

- nines lyrics

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