Blow 5 Songtext
I’m hearing static in my phone, they got a track on me
You was trying to do a song, I got this mac on me
I asked him, “shot him in his dome?”, he said, “facts, homie”
You did enough for the set, just relax, homie
Drought time, I kept it real, I put a tax on him
In the meeting, it went sour, I pulled my strap on him
I’m through the roof and then the sky, ain’t no cap on me
It got it locked but I ain’t locked, ain’t no latch on me
They only bring it to me hard when I get the work
I’m pulling babies out the pot like it’s giving birth
Traffic stop, bubble guts when I’m getting searched
Emptied the FN on him and it didn’t jerk
I’m using Sun Tzu tactics, war is an art
Riding with two birds like it’s Noah’s Ark
Them suckers landed every bullet when they hit the [?]
I was taught only broke niggas get it hard
And I was taught life lessons while behind the bars
(I swear I was taught life lessons behind that bitch)
OBH Records, it’s more like an army
I blow a dime in 20 seconds, I’m fresh out of Barney’s
Allah, protect me from the friends that want to harm me
On my name alone, he strapped, I [?] you out this [?]
Told the lookout just whistle, when they come, alarm me
Life’s a game, it’s sunny now, but it just was stormy
He got killed, he put his gun up, it just was on him
Look, every charge was violence when I caught a case
I told Skinny go to sleep ‘cause his lawyer paid
I got money in my safe that’s my daughter’s age
Was kicked out of high school when I bought a gauge
My old head beat the case, he found loopholes
I was 12 shooting out in my school clothes
I send the nigga on a hit and paid him 2 O’s
Facetimed Dark Lo, we only use codes
The plug pitched at me, I’m like Pujols
Get rich and stay rich, only two goals
Fuck the story, what’s the moral, I’m trying to kept it cordial
Investigated, then he told, he couldn’t keep his morals
Keep your pussy when we link, we’ll just keep it oral
Don’t come around me acting weird, we’ll just keep it normal
Closed casket, your mom crying if I creep up on you
Eulogies and sad songs, I’ll pit the deacon on you
Homework a piece of cake, I spent the weekend on you
How he kill his own blood for a half a brick?
Grave shifts, it was my pursuit of happiness
Was shot 10 times, ain’t know what was happening
Making bad bitches take a knee like Kapernick
Chopper in the van but it wasn’t our plans
Interrogation room, I took the Rosa Parks stance
Fingertips numb, come from cutting hard grams
I bet every bullet land and that is with my off hand
I told [___] hit me when it’s [___]
I’m in the loft chilling, this is God’s plan
When it’s war, it’s no pauses, I go to different causes
You need a feature, I need a bag, I’m talking Santa Clauses
Now all I do is win, I couldn’t stand the losses
Bagging dope is great work and badland’s the office
FedEx and Percocets, I hope it land in Boston
I done ate with the Bloods, I done ran with the Crips
Walked around with Shawn Kemp number on my hips
I got a hundred men, I pray that none of them flip
[?] jump in my bag, you’re getting one with the zip
I done loss all my conscience with the loss of my mother
Started popping Percocets in all different colors
It all come to double when the soft start to bubble
Tre pound Sig Sauer will turn his scar to a puzzle
You was trying to do a song, I got this mac on me
I asked him, “shot him in his dome?”, he said, “facts, homie”
You did enough for the set, just relax, homie
Drought time, I kept it real, I put a tax on him
In the meeting, it went sour, I pulled my strap on him
I’m through the roof and then the sky, ain’t no cap on me
It got it locked but I ain’t locked, ain’t no latch on me
They only bring it to me hard when I get the work
I’m pulling babies out the pot like it’s giving birth
Traffic stop, bubble guts when I’m getting searched
Emptied the FN on him and it didn’t jerk
I’m using Sun Tzu tactics, war is an art
Riding with two birds like it’s Noah’s Ark
Them suckers landed every bullet when they hit the [?]
I was taught only broke niggas get it hard
And I was taught life lessons while behind the bars
(I swear I was taught life lessons behind that bitch)
OBH Records, it’s more like an army
I blow a dime in 20 seconds, I’m fresh out of Barney’s
Allah, protect me from the friends that want to harm me
On my name alone, he strapped, I [?] you out this [?]
Told the lookout just whistle, when they come, alarm me
Life’s a game, it’s sunny now, but it just was stormy
He got killed, he put his gun up, it just was on him
Look, every charge was violence when I caught a case
I told Skinny go to sleep ‘cause his lawyer paid
I got money in my safe that’s my daughter’s age
Was kicked out of high school when I bought a gauge
My old head beat the case, he found loopholes
I was 12 shooting out in my school clothes
I send the nigga on a hit and paid him 2 O’s
Facetimed Dark Lo, we only use codes
The plug pitched at me, I’m like Pujols
Get rich and stay rich, only two goals
Fuck the story, what’s the moral, I’m trying to kept it cordial
Investigated, then he told, he couldn’t keep his morals
Keep your pussy when we link, we’ll just keep it oral
Don’t come around me acting weird, we’ll just keep it normal
Closed casket, your mom crying if I creep up on you
Eulogies and sad songs, I’ll pit the deacon on you
Homework a piece of cake, I spent the weekend on you
How he kill his own blood for a half a brick?
Grave shifts, it was my pursuit of happiness
Was shot 10 times, ain’t know what was happening
Making bad bitches take a knee like Kapernick
Chopper in the van but it wasn’t our plans
Interrogation room, I took the Rosa Parks stance
Fingertips numb, come from cutting hard grams
I bet every bullet land and that is with my off hand
I told [___] hit me when it’s [___]
I’m in the loft chilling, this is God’s plan
When it’s war, it’s no pauses, I go to different causes
You need a feature, I need a bag, I’m talking Santa Clauses
Now all I do is win, I couldn’t stand the losses
Bagging dope is great work and badland’s the office
FedEx and Percocets, I hope it land in Boston
I done ate with the Bloods, I done ran with the Crips
Walked around with Shawn Kemp number on my hips
I got a hundred men, I pray that none of them flip
[?] jump in my bag, you’re getting one with the zip
I done loss all my conscience with the loss of my mother
Started popping Percocets in all different colors
It all come to double when the soft start to bubble
Tre pound Sig Sauer will turn his scar to a puzzle
