Reckless (feat. The LOX) Trae tha Truth (Ft. The LOX)

[Verse 1: Sheek Louch]
We ain’t burning, liquor pour, bitches calling me daddy
I’m a thug, 357 straight out the caddy
New York about my shoe, just flew in from…
A hood bitch, slimmy but her ass is fatty
I’m hot right now, my balls got a tin top on
I’m a movie and you missing some fresh popcorn
Levi’s…with a fresh clock on
Reasonable doubt, I was young getting my rocks on
Now I’m out in Texas, you traitor
Or either back home in the studio with Styles and Jada
Life’s a gamble, cards is dealt
I put the medal in your bitch face like Raymond Felt, motherfucker

[Verse 2: Styles P]
Fuck your mother if her son is a bitch
Fly from the barrel, one in the head, 16 in the clip
D block niggas steaming the spliff
Promethazine, gun, lean, and a whip
I expect you to not fuck with me
All the shooters, they throw it up for me
This life’s murdering luxury
Talking to the gun in the car like it’s my company
12 rounds, no boxing, no glove
From the hood, no option, no love
Gangsters don’t die, mobsters don’t buzz
When niggas do time niggas draw blood
Feel me