Nothing Personal Trinity Garden Cartel

[Intro]
*We gonna do a song that you never heard before*
Yeah, street knowledge
Straight off the motherfuckin' streets of Trinity
For you listeners, check it

[Verse 1: Mike B.]
Don't you player hate me, ho
Man, I'm 'bout tired of this ho shit
I'm heartless out the garden, no nigga to fuck with
On the block with the stone (Yeah)
And them other ho's are jealous 'cause we bringin' more money home
I'm keepin' all of my player points
I get paid, on the cool, then sit back and smoke a joint
I know my mind ain't tight, D
If I ain't even got my cousin with the nerves to de-cite me (Ha)
And them niggas we was raised with, talkin' nonsense
'Cause they still had to rob and shit
Let's go to the memory lane, bone (Way back)
They was raised with a daddy, I was born without a home
My mama couldn't take care of me
I live my life day by day, on the clock, G
But that's life, shit, and it don't quit
Straight up, holmes (What's up man?)
I'm no nigga to fuck with