Bitch give me balance
I ain't wit the chatter got the dusse in chalice
Bitch give me my balance
I ain't wit da rapping got the gas up in the bob
Bitch give me my balance x3
Never been a friendly nigga
Too dangerous
Ain't hanging wit a 100 niggas
King anti
I rather keep the smith a wessin
Big drum bitch
Faking catch a comfy stretcher
Get slumped wit
It's pressure that you never wanted
Now i'm on some murder shit
Cause I found my fucking balance
Talking like my name was curtis I don't really give a shit
Yeah said that shit on purpose, now you hurt who gives a fuck
Ain't the liquor in my cup
I just had it wit the corny shit
Niggas faker than the lakers band
But i ain't worried about it
I got a couple ties and i'm sure they heard about it
And if that nigga die Ion't really know about it
Tear up in my eyes cause you know i'm smoking zaza
Fear that I could die, so i started keeping fire
Ain't no problem man, but youll never catch me loafing
Used to pop a xan, now i'm feeling demon
Now I'm getting wild bitch i feel like willie beamen
And them bitches quite, cause they never thought they see me
Bitchs looking squeamish, yeah them threats they ain't redeeming
Cause the image wasn't right, it wasn't bluff it's really scenic
If they barking
Sprits floating
Toleration that's no no
9 up in the chamber
Better watch it guard your brain bro,
I ain't into antics
Watch yo conscious leave in slow mo
Empty out the clip, close casket, turned gumbo
Damage more than fatal, highlander wit da pole hoe
You know my motto, keep the Otto
Cause you never who fold
Semi auto looking auto cause the way I let it go
Second guessing outta question, we don't think we let it go
If you fucking wit my balance
That's end you gotta go hoe