| Tears for ODB, drug-induced poetry
|
| What’s the use? |
| Strung-out from that drug abuse, woe is me
|
| 80's baby, so I know my pops was gettin' high
|
| In the 90's, me and mama barely gettin' by
|
| 2000's I was concentratin' more on gettin' fly
|
| Gettin' bitches, gettin' rich to get the shit I couldn’t buy
|
| You know the story, you know my allegory
|
| I was sent from Heaven with a set of horns, they’d better warn y’all
|
| I’m here for more than just to kick some witty metaphors, dawg
|
| This more of the type of shit you spit to set a war off
|
| ‘Cause niggas be poor, get money and still don’t know
|
| Why the fuck they can’t cop a house, the system meant to lock us out
|
| But I’m knockin' down the door, strapped up with a four-four
|
| Robin Hood, shit and yeah, I’m ‘hood rich
|
| That’s good enough to stay in new kicks and a good whip
|
| Get good head from a good bitch, I give two shits, I’mma tell you straight up
|
| Straight up
|
| Straight up, aye, any chance I’mma take it
|
| Rather die before I fake it
|
| They say life is what you make it, bitch, but I’m just tryna make it
|
| Straight up
|
| Straight up
|
| Straight up, aye, any chance I’mma take it
|
| Rather die before I fake it
|
| They say life is what you make it, bitch
|
| Lord have mercy on my soul, what I’ve done and what I’ve seen
|
| My life has tumbled into that which only you could intervene
|
| I put my heart in senseless things: money, bitches and street shit
|
| Fascinated by beef, sad to say I won’t be shit
|
| Grew up in this bitch without a pot to piss in, no toilet
|
| How ironic, I took a lot of shit, like a bottom bitch
|
| Or a model chick, high off coke
|
| They lockin' sons up for less, I don’t care how y’all cope
|
| But yet I still peddle this dope and these pills
|
| I’ll never know how sittin' comfy on that Oprah seat feels
|
| More than likely be on Most Wanted posters, we still
|
| Holdin' on to old dreams of bein' Hova, be real
|
| We the forgotten souls, bottom of the totem poles
|
| Left for dead, some niggas fled, people said they sold their souls
|
| I just think they found a better way, Lord knows I never pray
|
| But sometimes I be wishin' I could levitate, I’ll take it straight up
|
| Straight up
|
| Straight up, aye, any chance I’mma take it
|
| Rather die before I fake it
|
| They say life is what you make it, bitch, but I’m just tryna make it
|
| Straight up
|
| Straight up
|
| Straight up, aye, any chance I’mma take it
|
| Rather die before I fake it
|
| They say life is what you make it, bitch |