Bad Health bro
This that shit my nigga
[Verse 1: RetcH]
Tangled in this Hell hole, prolly slept with the dope packs
Nomads roaming, [?] tasting the cognac
Jakes they all adore you, so you might as well just off yourself
Awful health, Newports got me coughing up yellow shit
Pockets getting thinner, thoughts getting more devilish
Derelict, living a low life degenerate
Man's shot, mom's fucked up, bitches is sucking dick
Fucks a rap check, so I'm still right here on this fucking strip
Do a show for four thousand people then go and sell a zip
Go on tour then post in front the store like I ain't got a cent
Dropping packs in the hood like the UPS nigga
When I fuck these next plates up I'ma have to get the next nigga
Or wait until the [?], said that niggas got a show (chill nigga)
And they gon' toss a lil' dough so now I'm back up on the road
But it still ain't shit cause my moms who got the house
So the [?] of these thoughts is threw the 5 for the ounce
[Verse 2: Ab-Soul]
Yo yo
You know the block is hot son, you need to chill out
You got a future ahead of you
I know you sick of the fiends fiending to get ahead to you
And risking your life
Mr. You-Know-Where-To-Find-Me-For-The-7-For-The-90, I
Know your circumstances coming up was fucked up
But your only 21 and you ain't diss anyone, deadass
Your past is what makes your present special
Fuck a rap cheque? that cheque paid for the pack for the session
Listen lil homie, I know I'm only 27
But I kept my head down like God in Heaven and I got my blessings
A lot of my niggas doing bids tryna live like this
Beating off while we really in bitches ribs
No A-1 sauce on my filet mignon
Could make 40 off a brick, I did that in 2 shows
This that shit my nigga
[Verse 1: RetcH]
Tangled in this Hell hole, prolly slept with the dope packs
Nomads roaming, [?] tasting the cognac
Jakes they all adore you, so you might as well just off yourself
Awful health, Newports got me coughing up yellow shit
Pockets getting thinner, thoughts getting more devilish
Derelict, living a low life degenerate
Man's shot, mom's fucked up, bitches is sucking dick
Fucks a rap check, so I'm still right here on this fucking strip
Do a show for four thousand people then go and sell a zip
Go on tour then post in front the store like I ain't got a cent
Dropping packs in the hood like the UPS nigga
When I fuck these next plates up I'ma have to get the next nigga
Or wait until the [?], said that niggas got a show (chill nigga)
And they gon' toss a lil' dough so now I'm back up on the road
But it still ain't shit cause my moms who got the house
So the [?] of these thoughts is threw the 5 for the ounce
[Verse 2: Ab-Soul]
Yo yo
You know the block is hot son, you need to chill out
You got a future ahead of you
I know you sick of the fiends fiending to get ahead to you
And risking your life
Mr. You-Know-Where-To-Find-Me-For-The-7-For-The-90, I
Know your circumstances coming up was fucked up
But your only 21 and you ain't diss anyone, deadass
Your past is what makes your present special
Fuck a rap cheque? that cheque paid for the pack for the session
Listen lil homie, I know I'm only 27
But I kept my head down like God in Heaven and I got my blessings
A lot of my niggas doing bids tryna live like this
Beating off while we really in bitches ribs
No A-1 sauce on my filet mignon
Could make 40 off a brick, I did that in 2 shows
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