If you digest my flow shit'll hit your spot
Opposite from the wrist Niger meaning I'm hot
No need to worry to question all the shit that I got
Became of that real humble laying low on the block
Ain't been the same since my mama fell short to a shot
Fact that she's gone and I'm living make the pain don't stop
Move out the Jets or the Niger still carry a glock
So if you run up on me ill-advised you sure to get popped
9 to 5 game slow so I turned to drugs
All day on the grind making moves with thugs
No turning back cuz the game got a nigga too deep
Seeing faces hearing voices from the shots in my sleep
The weed smoke keeps me sane but it calms the pain
But when the high wears off it's the same old thing
Niggas dying bitches lying feeling trapped in a shell
Although I'm living in the flesh my soul dying in hell
Holla at your Man
Wisemen - Salute Freestyle (feat. Salute Da Kidd) Lyrics
Wisemen - Salute Freestyle (feat. Salute Da Kidd) Lyrics
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If you digest my flow shit'll hit your spot
Opposite from the wrist Niger meaning I'm hot
No need to worry to question all the shit that I got
Became of that real humble laying low on the block
Ain't been the same since my mama fell short to a shot
Fact that she's gone and I'm living make the pain don't stop
Move out the Jets or the Niger still carry a glock
So if you run up on me ill-advised you sure to get popped
9 to 5 game slow so I turned to drugs
All day on the grind making moves with thugs
No turning back cuz the game got a nigga too deep
Seeing faces hearing voices from the shots in my sleep
The weed smoke keeps me sane but it calms the pain
But when the high wears off it's the same old thing
Niggas dying bitches lying feeling trapped in a shell
Although I'm living in the flesh my soul dying in hell
Holla at your Man
Opposite from the wrist Niger meaning I'm hot
No need to worry to question all the shit that I got
Became of that real humble laying low on the block
Ain't been the same since my mama fell short to a shot
Fact that she's gone and I'm living make the pain don't stop
Move out the Jets or the Niger still carry a glock
So if you run up on me ill-advised you sure to get popped
9 to 5 game slow so I turned to drugs
All day on the grind making moves with thugs
No turning back cuz the game got a nigga too deep
Seeing faces hearing voices from the shots in my sleep
The weed smoke keeps me sane but it calms the pain
But when the high wears off it's the same old thing
Niggas dying bitches lying feeling trapped in a shell
Although I'm living in the flesh my soul dying in hell
Holla at your Man
Writer: Aundre Woodland
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid