Lyrics My Own - Styles P, Whispers

My Own

Yeah, it is what it is
Tell 'em ain’t no me
Feel me?
Vinny Idol, nigga
Streets know the aura, Tommy guns, fedoras
Watch for the creeps, the peeps on the corner
Mommy read Genesis, I cred the Torah
Supposed to be righteous but I love the horror
Was thrilled by crime
I can’t believe I let a motherfuckin' dollar bill kill my mind
Dull my senses, steal my shine
It took a strong will from me to heal my mind
Still, I’m blind 'cause still I grind
This ain’t Astrology but feel my sign
Ghost walk his path align, feel his rap align
'Cause I kick shit that make the pastor cry
Weed pacify or pass the time
Got the soul of a slave with a mastermind
Get real ill, make a statue cry
'Cause gettin' real deep, that’s a knack of mine
But fuck accolades, blow a splif and get kicks off a page
Homie, put the MAC away
You either live or you die slow
Might you burn O’s and hide dough from 5−0
I’m John Doe in the Tahoe
Glow in the dark how a spark’ll leave your mind blown
My time’s up in your time zone, still on the flow but, my nigga, I’m a ride on
Ghost
I be on my own shit, all about that dough shit
Greedy mother fucker on that low shit
I be on my own shit, all about that dough shit
Grease a eighty-eight, that’s that blow shit
I be on my own shit
This is all from the school of hard knocks
From Wyo to Far Rock, I’m the nigga they play on the hard blocks
What’s the meaning of time when you lookin' at God clock?
Speakin' on the patterns in the sky
Niggas make rules up and break 'em, but I’m adamant with mine
Catalyst for crime, talk shit I’m shatterin' your spine
'Cause I ain’t get a ladder for the climb
Nah, no ropes, no hikin' shit
Had to play Valhalla on some vikin' shit
But never snitch gone on the deal
Live niggas keep it real, go out on they shield
No longer doin' crime but I could pass a line
Take a couple points, hit a joint, that is by design
Tradition kept, surprised a lotta niggas ain’t missin' yet
Just 'cause they ain’t listen yet
I know they deaf but they ain’t get the vision yet
Who am I to judge?
Only robe I wear is from the 'telly on the balcony
Blowin' on the bud
And I ain’t got a ego, I could show a nigga love
I got a Desert Eagle that could show a nigga mud
Dick in the dirt, floor wet 'cause of the blood
To tell the truth, nigga, I rather give you a hug
And you just mad 'cause of the plug
I know what it is, not what it was
I be on my own shit, all about that dough shit
Greedy mother fucker on that low shit
I be on my own shit, all about that dough shit
Grease a eighty-eight, that’s that blow shit
I be on my own shit