we don't scam - peezy lyrics
[intro]
(okay kmoney)
dope boys, no scammin’ on my section
ayy, can you— yeah, okay
(this that ghetto boyz, iur, wavy gang, mcb sh*t)
(this that motherf*ckin’ one mob sh*t, we on that oakland sh*t)
(detroit n*ggas)
ayy
[verse]
fell down, but i’m back on my two feet again (my two feet again)
if rap fail, i’ma go buy me two keys again (two bricks)
i’m back at home and i’m back lockin’ up the streets again (and i’m back)
if you ain’t with me, n*gga, you may never eat again (uh*huh)
long live my n*gga soda ’til we meet again (my dog)
watch your dog, uh, catch me if i fall, uh (catch me if i fall)
free my n*gga, i pick up soon as he call, uh (pick up)
he just wanna hear stories ’bout how i ball, uh (hey, hey)
i make it look easy, this sh*t was hard, though (this sh*t was hard, n*gga)
the streets left me scarred and they broke my heart too (they broke my heart)
found out my ex*b*tch was f*ckin’ with my mans (d*mn)
and he ain’t even come tell me, i found out through the ‘gram (hold up, bruh)
was sick for a minute, you still my dog, though (you still my n*gga, though)
no love for these b*tches, that’s why i dog hoes (f*ck a b*tch)
i grew up in them trenches, that’s what we call home (yeah)
where n*ggas’ mamas used to say, “my son can’t hang around y’all” (uh*huh)
yeah, i done did some sh*t i can’t come back from (nah)
f*cked up my whole d*mn bag, had to get back up (had to get back up)
i done got into it with n*ggas, ain’t call for backup (i didn’t)
they ain’t wanna give us respect, we had to whack somethin’
used to buy dope from ogs, they tried to tax me (they tried to tax me)
used to try to hit up them hoes, they ain’t hit back, e (d*mn)
now when we pop out at the club, they think we athletes (ballin’)
now i hit these hoes with two rubbers, they won a track meet (uh)
yeah, all i ask is that you keep it g no matter what (keep it gangster)
if that’s too much to ask for, my g, then get the f*ck
ain’t see me when i was down, now you can’t see me ’cause i’m up (nope)
you only come around when it’s convenient, that ain’t love (boy)
had to get it how i live, that was in blood, yeah (that was in blood)
bl**dy double cup of red, we call that mud, yeah (we call that mud)
f*ck that blood sh*t, i fell out with my cuz, yeah (f*ck my cuz)
don’t give a f*ck, you take from me, i crack your skull, yeah
chrome heart glasses on my face, you see the skull heads (you see that sh*t)
she wanna take the whole thing, come ride a bull, yeah (hey, hey)
new rich porter out the d, i’m paid in full, yeah (i’m paid in full)
put on for the 6, i’m like chapo in my hood, yeah (uh)
they told me i can’t hang around no felons, huh? (d*mn)
they told me i can’t be around no weapons, naw
better not catch you p*ssy boys off in my section, naw (n*gga)
neck so f*ckin’ froze, caught a cold wearin’ my necklace, dog (sh*t)
pull up with my shooter, let him test it out (let him test it)
he nodded off with one eye closed, it must be fetty wap
phone ringin’, my b*tch ask me who i’m textin’ now (h*llo?)
my mexican, he on his way up here from texas now (i’m waitin’ on you)
retired from sellin’ dope, it wasn’t no exit route (it wasn’t no end route)
now i get paid to rap on stage, that’s a blessing, huh? (we in now)
she f*cked me and just left, ain’t even tell me bye (why?)
you hate me for no f*ckin’ reason, can’t even tell me why (broke boy)
i done been frontline so many times and i ain’t lyin’ (yeah)
been through h*ll and back, but no complaints, and i ain’t cryin’ (real n*gga)
bought so many watches, i can’t keep up with the time (sh*t)
had so many cars that i don’t know what else to drive (hey, hey)
ain’t got too many friends ’cause i ain’t friendly, b*tch (naw, i ain’t friendly, b*tch)
boy, go read my file, stand on business, b*tch (stand on business, b*tch)
i send a hit ’bout david wesson, that’s my n*gga, b*tch (that’s my n*gga, b*tch)
went and got them m’s and brought ’em right back to the trenches, b*tch (hey, hey)
stack it to the ceiling
can’t afford to take no days off, i’m tryna get it
nodded in the trap, i woke up and seen my skizzy
and like sixty*two grams in my twelve*twelve skinnies
flip phone hangin’ ’round my neck, carhartt on in a blizzard
that’s what we wear when we get busy
pull up on the block, hit the lights and park the van
that’s my white boy, he pay one*twenty for a gram, ayy
we sell weed and we don’t scam, b*tch
we sell dope, no, we don’t scam, yeah
in my section, i’m the man, yeah
don’t make me bust your motherf*ckin’ head, woo
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