Lyrics Dear Father - Young Roddy

Dear Father

And them lil' niggas stay car-jacking
Use bitch niggas for target practice
Every time we fucked man she came first and that’s automatic
Cops all in my rear view but its still ain’t no looking backwards
3 bricks with 2 niggas and 1 plan, let’s make it happen
Nigga fuck with our paper, fuck with our profit nigga we clappin
I’m ducked off, I be MIA when I touch down in Miami
And I’m laying it down, I stand tall, I big dog this status
Like clockwork I moved mad work when I was posted up off that alley, bitch
Stack paper stay low key, this young boy turned OG
All hail Route the Ruler bitch I shine bright for my whole team
Pop bottles get faded
Nina Rose is my baby
I don’t fuck with hoes that play basic
To the roof-top from the basement
And they told me I ain’t doing it right if them pussy niggas ain’t hating
Man they told me I ain’t doing it right if them pussy niggas ain’t hating
But like 'Ye say «We Major»
Like Uncle Snoop I get faded
Like Michael Jack I’m the baddest
Like Ali I’m the greatest
Like Money Mitch I get paper
Like we made it
I made guap with my pager
I chop blocks with my razor
I think I need me a vacation
This hot block still blazing
Them crooked cops still riding
My OG still banging
I lost my mind I can’t find it
This another classic I promise
We started out with nada
It was me, Buck and Lil' Johnnie
They my brothers from another, I call they momma my momma
I was 14 smoking chronic, I was 14
I smiled a lot but wasn’t clowning, I prayed a lot Dear Father
Had a weed shop in my condo, I was living like no tomorrow
I learned a lot from my losses, everybody ain’t bosses
Everybody ain’t faithful, everybody ain’t loyal
My nigga told me go harder, I kept cash for my lawyer
My nigga Mall had a daughter, I treat her just like my daughter
But what that is?
Good Sense 3