Lyrics For The Best - Styles P

For The Best

Yeah
Ghost
Now whaddup?
I’m on my Balkin joint flow you know
If you ballin then pass the ball off
I promise to God that even the angel falls off
I might be in tune with the sun and the moon
But I ain’t slipping on some shit like ain’t a gun in the room
Probably burning some frankincense
Gritty version of Frankenstein
Rockers didn’t make me
The streets did
I made the grind
I’m probably reciting Jada lines
Newish lines, Jet star blade in ma gooseline
Sitting on the balcony
Lounging at the Ritz
Guerilla nigga
I can hear the sounds in the mist
Tell em consigliere leave the burner wid consierge
Take from under the stairs cause niggas taking the
I even know Blanco the one who sent Frank
And the cussing Columbians just looking to buy a bank
Me I’m just chillin just looking to buy a bank
Constrainin the stank that’s leaving my mind blank
Live through the worst
Prayers through the best
Drinks in the system
Smoke in the air for the stress
Live through the worst
Prayers through the best
Drinks in the system
Smoke in the air for the stress
Prayers for the homies in the box to the day of death
Salute to the hungry, we going eat we just gotta rep
Hungry
Reppin for real niggas that never eat
Living in Hell’s Kitchen praying to get to heaven’s gate
They say Death is part of the four horsemen
With Famine, Conquest and War in small coffins
I ain’t even but yea bread needs endorsements
I know I swear to God I’d kill a nigga through
You other niggas praying that it works out
That’s real crazy cause a jail cell is the worse hell
Back on delivery
Mar bars sharpen up the cars
Sharpen up industry
Running from Yonkers where niggas think its the Middle East
How you going kill that nigga you went to Little League
OG’s is diggin it
Yeah, and the young boys too
They say fuck that the flip is what the gun boys do
I know that cause I’ve been one
Put a nigga out when you ain’t like doing the income
Pray when the end come