[Intro]
(Can we have a check, please?)
[Verse 1: $tupid Young]
They ask me why I buy all the straps for
I'm paranoid, feel like everyone gon' backdoor
But MIA, I'm just busy tryna stack dough
Shoot some dice, hit a lick or just rap more
Either way, I'm gettin' to it, and that's the point
Way before I made music, I been a joint
Ain't nobody showed me love when I was in the joint
I came home and made a team and now they wanna join
Lost too many of my bros, so I don't feel nothin'
I told my brothers if I go, you better kill somethin'
I make music for the bad bitches and real ones
Real nigga beforе the fame and I'm still one
Nobody gon' givе you shit, you better suck it up
Get off your ass, touch a bag and go run it up
He tried runnin' up on us, then he dumb as fuck
This FN gon' make him jump like he double dutch
I've been crossed by some homies of my own blood
They try to take advantage of you when you show love
Closest ones did me wrong and left me tore up
Now when I see him, I just act like I don't know cuz
Gotta know the rules to the game and pay attention
Who gon' really be there for you when you gettin' sentenced?
Who gon' really slide for you if they catch you slippin'?
Everytime it was smoke, I had perfect attendance
No back and forth on the 'net, I don't do the mentions
They can say what they want, it's on you to listen
I know Trey gon' go if I feel the tension
We ain't nothin' but outstanding members from the section
I'm just speakin' from the heart, it's ghetto poetry
Ski mask when I dug it, they don't know it's me
Hustle so hard, you would think there's four of me
I'm too official, on the gang, there ain't no ho in me
Been the same hood trophy, just an older me
Seen pop off on the ground and made a colder me
Tried to help you out, but you tried to get over me
I cut 'em off and made it hard to get a hold of me
Even if I never get a Grammy off this shit
Safe to say that I fed my family off this shit
Even if they never give me flowers or my credit
I broke the door down for the agents, but they won't admit it
(Can we have a check, please?)
[Verse 1: $tupid Young]
They ask me why I buy all the straps for
I'm paranoid, feel like everyone gon' backdoor
But MIA, I'm just busy tryna stack dough
Shoot some dice, hit a lick or just rap more
Either way, I'm gettin' to it, and that's the point
Way before I made music, I been a joint
Ain't nobody showed me love when I was in the joint
I came home and made a team and now they wanna join
Lost too many of my bros, so I don't feel nothin'
I told my brothers if I go, you better kill somethin'
I make music for the bad bitches and real ones
Real nigga beforе the fame and I'm still one
Nobody gon' givе you shit, you better suck it up
Get off your ass, touch a bag and go run it up
He tried runnin' up on us, then he dumb as fuck
This FN gon' make him jump like he double dutch
I've been crossed by some homies of my own blood
They try to take advantage of you when you show love
Closest ones did me wrong and left me tore up
Now when I see him, I just act like I don't know cuz
Gotta know the rules to the game and pay attention
Who gon' really be there for you when you gettin' sentenced?
Who gon' really slide for you if they catch you slippin'?
Everytime it was smoke, I had perfect attendance
No back and forth on the 'net, I don't do the mentions
They can say what they want, it's on you to listen
I know Trey gon' go if I feel the tension
We ain't nothin' but outstanding members from the section
I'm just speakin' from the heart, it's ghetto poetry
Ski mask when I dug it, they don't know it's me
Hustle so hard, you would think there's four of me
I'm too official, on the gang, there ain't no ho in me
Been the same hood trophy, just an older me
Seen pop off on the ground and made a colder me
Tried to help you out, but you tried to get over me
I cut 'em off and made it hard to get a hold of me
Even if I never get a Grammy off this shit
Safe to say that I fed my family off this shit
Even if they never give me flowers or my credit
I broke the door down for the agents, but they won't admit it
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