[Intro]
Yea
No
[Verse]
4-1, that’s 5 mile, nigga that’s where I’m from
P stand for Payroll, I get money in lumps
I’m the nigga in the club with the coupe in the front
But I’m barely in the club, I stay away from you punks
I’m usually, in and out of town
Runnin’ in and out of pounds
Leavin’ in silence, I still hear my money-counter sounds
I’m trynna stay a float, I done seen a lot of niggas drown
I hustled in my city, I ain’t have to get it off the Hound
Built some shit from off the ground
Use to work, we bosses now
Same nigga that you helped, the same nigga talking down
Fuck em though
Million dolla’ nigga, that’s with nothin’ on
Shield cap?, but I ain’t the nigga you should be comin’ for
Cats that go against me, man they end up with the worst luck
Swear this shit is crazy, like they end up with a curse bruh
A thousand for the belt and I ain’t ever got my shirt tucked
Never fucked my plug over and never got my work took
Had a couple niggas run off, they tried to crawl back
But once you show them true colours, I got to fall back
Came up off of hard crack
Nigga this is all facts
Now it’s rap, if I ain’t a hustla, watchu call that? (Watchu call that)
Use to hide my sack in my ball cap
Now I have my bag in the whole house
One flat in the ol’ couch
You mad at me, cause my name in ya whole mouth
And Ion even know the hoe
Control your own spouse
Got the game from Rodrick
Use to cop an ounce of hard and chop it
These rocks to my left is my profit
Came a long way from having rocks in my pocket
Now it’s rocks in my watches
Long live Roc, we still mobbin’
Mashin’ on the gas no stoppin’
These labels left a nigga no option
I traffic narcotics
Till I can buy a Benz, no mileage
Told the label, they can keep the stylist
We been on this fly shit (c’mon now)
Way before I even signed shit
Before I jumped in the game, I read the fine print
And accepted everythang that it came wit (I do)
So don’t you ever come at Pay wit no lame shit
I used to rock rose gold to match the frame’s tint
Trappin’ wit RJ, I helped him work the day shift
Now me and plastic surgeons got the same whips
Same size house, the marble floors tell me don’t quit (don’t quit)
I do it for my fans, not you rap niggas
It was either this or be a crack dealer
Still got my old scales in my vacuum sealer
Tucked away safe, but I ain’t trynna go back nigga
Got the car in drive not reverse (not reverse)
I ain’t gotta tell lies in a verse (not one)
No food fight, but it’s a pie on my shirt
This that crack to type of shit fiends buy on the first
Yea
No
[Verse]
4-1, that’s 5 mile, nigga that’s where I’m from
P stand for Payroll, I get money in lumps
I’m the nigga in the club with the coupe in the front
But I’m barely in the club, I stay away from you punks
I’m usually, in and out of town
Runnin’ in and out of pounds
Leavin’ in silence, I still hear my money-counter sounds
I’m trynna stay a float, I done seen a lot of niggas drown
I hustled in my city, I ain’t have to get it off the Hound
Built some shit from off the ground
Use to work, we bosses now
Same nigga that you helped, the same nigga talking down
Fuck em though
Million dolla’ nigga, that’s with nothin’ on
Shield cap?, but I ain’t the nigga you should be comin’ for
Cats that go against me, man they end up with the worst luck
Swear this shit is crazy, like they end up with a curse bruh
A thousand for the belt and I ain’t ever got my shirt tucked
Never fucked my plug over and never got my work took
Had a couple niggas run off, they tried to crawl back
But once you show them true colours, I got to fall back
Came up off of hard crack
Nigga this is all facts
Now it’s rap, if I ain’t a hustla, watchu call that? (Watchu call that)
Use to hide my sack in my ball cap
Now I have my bag in the whole house
One flat in the ol’ couch
You mad at me, cause my name in ya whole mouth
And Ion even know the hoe
Control your own spouse
Got the game from Rodrick
Use to cop an ounce of hard and chop it
These rocks to my left is my profit
Came a long way from having rocks in my pocket
Now it’s rocks in my watches
Long live Roc, we still mobbin’
Mashin’ on the gas no stoppin’
These labels left a nigga no option
I traffic narcotics
Till I can buy a Benz, no mileage
Told the label, they can keep the stylist
We been on this fly shit (c’mon now)
Way before I even signed shit
Before I jumped in the game, I read the fine print
And accepted everythang that it came wit (I do)
So don’t you ever come at Pay wit no lame shit
I used to rock rose gold to match the frame’s tint
Trappin’ wit RJ, I helped him work the day shift
Now me and plastic surgeons got the same whips
Same size house, the marble floors tell me don’t quit (don’t quit)
I do it for my fans, not you rap niggas
It was either this or be a crack dealer
Still got my old scales in my vacuum sealer
Tucked away safe, but I ain’t trynna go back nigga
Got the car in drive not reverse (not reverse)
I ain’t gotta tell lies in a verse (not one)
No food fight, but it’s a pie on my shirt
This that crack to type of shit fiends buy on the first
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