[ Featuring Don Carrera ]
Different angles, from family to strangers,
This path that I chose, for the dangerous.
It's sad to say this, but through all the game, it came with some changes.
The fake shit laced within the pages,
All the day ones'll snake it.
And if they see an opportunity to shake, they gon' shake it.
These situations, what you make it.
Hit my knees when I'm praying,
I know one day the bed I make will be the one that I lay in.
I watch the reaper's face change quicker than the sneaker game.
Peep' the game, when they seen me in my lane, that's when the leeches came.
All these lessons is typical, demons in my peripheral.
Going through all the motions, but you the one that was cynical.
How I'm supposed to trust you 'round the streams
When I couldn't trust you 'round the crumbs, back when shit was only on physical?
I read between the lines of the eyes and your brows,
Your handshake ain't matching, your smile ain't sticking round.
You niggas foul, tryna kick a nigga right when he down.
You not my kin, not my bro, not my friend, not my round.
I read between the lines of the eyes and your brows,
Your handshake ain't matching, your smile ain't sticking round.
You niggas foul, tryna kick a nigga right when he down.
You not my kin, not my bro, not my friend, not my round.
You not my family.
Rolling with certain niggas is damaging,
Handling these hoes' emotions and protecting my plans.
These niggas jealous of my energy and captivating tendencies,
So much they overcompensate and become overzealous.
You keeping tabs on every single hand you lent
When no one asked you for shit.
Then throw a stone, and hide your hand, and fix your lips like a bitch.
You got the reason now, ain't no reaching out.
Let's see about all of the scores these pussy niggas have been keeping now.
I'm peaceful, down and eating chow,
Breaking it to even ground.
Brittle clowns, not solid whenever the heat around.
Stick around, the only thing that prevail is the truth.
I had your back, but who knew I had to be careful with you.
I read between the lines of the eyes and your brows,
Your handshake ain't matching, your smile ain't sticking round.
You niggas foul, tryna kick a nigga right when he down.
You not my kin, not my bro, not my friend, not my round.
I read between the lines of the eyes and your brows,
Your handshake ain't matching, your smile ain't sticking round.
You niggas foul, tryna kick a nigga right when he down.
You not my kin, not my bro, not my friend, not my round.
