[Talking: Creative Gold]
You know what I hate man
I hate when n***as tell you what they doing man
I don't give a f** what ya'll n***as is doing
Straight up
[Verse 1: Creative Gold]
We them n***as now, trust me
Everything in New York coming through us
Just hold it down, druggy
Don't ask for war if you ain't ready to buck
I don't see no competition
I don't see no n***as dissin'
n***as know who got that hot sh**
n***as know why the b**hes listen
I been chillin, I been working
I been injured, I been hurting
I got a group a n***as I'd die for
And a couple homies that's lurking
I got a couple styles they gonna jack
I know a couple rappers can't rap
I know a couple people that's mad as hell
That they couldn't, f** with my camp
Done being humble, let me flex a bit
The one with the sk**, next and sh**
For the street n***as, drug dealers
Money n***as, Silverback gorillas
Brooklyn k**ers, that be f**ing with us
Chicago n***as, that be gunning with is
L what up, Murph what up
Ain't nobody even really f** with us
708 to my city, I make jet lag look pretty
I'm k**ing off all these n***as
Call the FBI to come get me
It's 97 till heaven bro
I said that sh** I kept it true
Comparisons are irrelevant
When you the n***a that they compare you to
& that's real