[Intro: DJ Skee (& Freddie Gibbs)]
That's right
I told y'all we was bringin' that Midwestgangstaboxframecadillacmuzik to life today
Gangster Gibbs
(Sing that as a lullaby)
It's only the start
[Verse 1: Freddie Gibbs]
I'm rolling solo in my four door, got my speakers on bang
Trunk full of that {?}, finna go make a stain with that c**aine
I'm on my way to cop it, chop it, gotta get paper, b**h
Got your favorite sh** and what you lace it with?
They hate the kid
n***as thought they could phase the kid
Step back and appraise the kid
The neck is lit, this major sh**
n***as ain't do me no favors, b**h
Don't ask for none
And n***as that ain't my peeps shouldn't even think to speak
I pack them guns, they yap and run
You showed them my buzz?
I'll sweep your street
We taking and making that doe, n***a
(Jacking?) and breaking them o's, n***a
Ask any motherf**er on my block
(?) ain't raise no ho n***a
I keep a b**h on her toes, n***a
Freddie the one that she chose, n***a
My doe bigger, my flow sicker than most n***as
I show b**hes that I ain't the one they be playing with
I'm ‘bout my money, my paper, my cheddar, my bread
You (hear me jump out?) on these beats
‘Cause I'm in the streets, the streets is keeping me fed
These n***as ‘ll leave me for dead, if they get the chance
Come at my head to try to advance, but will I last?
f** yea—‘cause I'm ‘a blast, n***a
[Hook (x2): Freddie Gibbs]
From the cradle to the grave, from the womb to the tomb
I'm ‘a get it, win or lose
I'm just out here making moves
From the womb to the tomb, to the cradle to the grave
‘Til I check up out this b**h, I'm out this b**h
Getting paid
[Verse 2: Pill]
Ey, I can't be hospitable
If the sh** ain't profitable
Send him to the hospital slow
Then we gon' let his children know
Can't go places that Pill ‘ll go
Might post up at the liquor store
Chop it down and distribute blow
Might get fresh and go pimp a hoe
I didn't know that's your sister, though
(Look, stand?) under this mistletoe
Give that four-five, a kiss, you b**h
‘Fore I let this trigger go
Cold-hearted for cash, a damn dummy for duggies
Sold the hardest of (gla**?)
My fam hungry, I'm bugging
Trucking, tucking, don't get stuck in sh**
What is this?
The components of a f**-you-upper, knuckle upper
Gutter n***a, throw the baking soda
Drop her proper
English for the slow guys, Bacon Double Whopper
I need more cheese and more fries
From the rocker to the doctor
Delivery room to the morgue
If you live by the sword
Take this chopper, go get guaped up
Or get k**ed trying for it
Take this chopper, go get guaped up
Or get k**ed trying for it
[Hook (x2): Freddie Gibbs]
[Verse 3: Freddie Gibbs]
Yo, I done played n***as, made n***as
Come up off that yay, n***a
What you think you brave, n***a?
I'm ‘a get down for my pay, n***a
Spray n***as, lay n***as out flat
“Will he live?”
“I doubt that”
Murder sh**, I'm ‘bout that
All the sh** surrounding that
Got n***as with cases, tears on faces
Snitches conversating down at the station
I smell bacon, so I'm laying low
Still gotta get that paper, yo
Pimp a b**h, break a hoe
‘Til I come up on that major doe
I could come up on some major blow
Been in the Bay with that major weed
Played the field, (with major pills?)
The sh** that I got give n***as the chills
This is the way that I live for real
Young and trill
I brung the steel against they will
My lungs is filled with Cali k**
I got that yac so crack the seal
I stack them bill to half a mill
Praying I never go broke again
Got money-making methods
And they respect it(, whether they folks or fed?)
Refuse to lose and hope to win
Strictly getting paid
From the womb to the tomb
From the cradle to the grave
[Hook (x2): Freddie Gibbs]