Lyrics
now what if i was on the grind to make a million bucks
i wouldnt spend a penny shit i'd even steal my lunch
now why the fuck yah'll always label me a hater?
jus cuz i wanna stomp your fuckin face out with my gators
i aint a snitch i aint a bitch, you are
you can try runnin from me but you wont get too far
i'm used to usin crucialness i think ur full of shit
.22 smith and wesson, six bullets in the clip
and best be sure that i'ma pull it till u hit
the ground, make sure that every round counts
fuck what these clowns bout soon as they found out
they dipped around the corner yellin wit they loud mouths
(Run RUN) so i'm quickly racin up
aint no way in hell to get away from the mainy bunch
some crazy fucks, that dont care about the police
i'd rather knock your bitch ass out cuz you are phony
and you dont know me, you aint my homie
but if you are than you should kno that we some OG's
sippin OE alway on the grind
rollin up a bleezy Four Twenty is the time
if you a snitch then you aint no friend of mine
if you a bitch then you aint no friend of mine
yeah, so fuck you and your little dog too
but if you need narcotics then i gotchu
got speed, DMT, weed and up to shrooms
though doesnt really matter what you use
i got whatchu need and i talk the truth
just hit me up, sub-stance abuse