Lose Lose Jim Jones & Harry Fraud

[Intro]
Somebody call the fraud department
(La Música de Harry Fraud)
Haha
You know what we on
(Make sure your pieces hittin', nigga)

[Verse 1]
I'm still in and out the hood with the bag on me (Facts)
Done-done niggas good, then went bad on me (Fuck 'em)
Felt like Suge in '96 with the red rag on me (Eastside)
Way I've been tacklin' shit, they should put pads on me
Play has changed, so I might call an audible (Hike)
Turned the AR to a pistol, nigga, now the gun's portable (Loaded)
We gon' ride like the tank is on a quarter full
Got us feelin' likе robbin' the bank is what we oughta do
They talk of smokе like I'm too rich to slide
I drop a bag and they told me that's how much a bitch had cried (Boo-hoo, nigga)
We let that heat go just like the Britain skies
And I used to cook up coke in the same pot the chicken fried (Lucky)
You gotta watch the wicked media
They tryna find my network on Wikipedia (Facts)
I can't recall tellin' that bitch that I needed her (Sheesh)
If she a bad bitch, nigga, tell me where they breeded her, fucker

[Chorus]
Shit, now that sound like a lose-lose
I be in all the main events with the who's who's
We been puttin' masks on 'fore the new flus
Nigga, I still run around, pocket full of new blues
Shit, now that sound like a lose-lose
I be in all the main events with the who's who's
We been puttin' masks on 'fore the new flus
Nigga, I still run around, pocket full of new blues