Fiction - Represent Me (DP Remix) lyrics

[Hook] I'm out for presidents to represent me I'm out for presidents to represent me I'm out for presidents to represent me I'm out for dead f**ing presidents to represent me [Verse 1] You see, my music is my hustle, my mind is my muscle I got brawn for brains, yes, I'm ready to tussle Can't you see, I'm not the brother you wanna press I got these mother f**ers pissing like marijuana tests I can make a masterpiece with ease like Master P I'm trying to baffle these ba*tards with this mastery Of this craft to be a mac with cheese For the dead presidents, I a**a**in beats I snap on a track like a rubber band That fell outta the pockets of a running man, you understand? Gotta make that money but I don't wanna run a man With a gun in hand, taking funds and scram, do you understand? Probably not, not many do The things that I'm going through and the dreams that I must pursue And the stupid decisions I make just to get close to you My green eyed girl, in a green eyed world She's a stranger to me, have you seen my world? Never know what to expect, I keep three eyes curled, 'cause It's dangerous living when money's the motive And I think it's a given that money is soulless Cause when it gets involved they act funny and bogus They packing tools they act a fool and now they running ya whole clique Oh sh**, staring down the gun and ya hopeless I wonder if the gunner had fun when he pulled it [Hook]: I'm out for presidents to represent me I'm out for presidents to represent me I'm out for presidents to represent me I'm out for dead f**ing presidents to represent me (x2) Who the f** is that? Oh, it's Fiction, baby! [Verse 2] Whatchu mean Started from the bottom? Stop ya speaking You ain't never had to slang green to keep ya faucet leaking Or to pay the cost of heating, I pray the boss is keeping A spot for me in the attic with something soft to sleep in Cause the way I'm living life I can feel my coffin creeping I am going off the deep end and it's like I lost my reason To go on, the block is heating, hold on, the cops are creeping So long, but now they leaving, so long Now its Back to the hustle, its back to the grind I'm tryna run sh** without clapping a nine But I got a lot of bullets, are you faster than mine? If your patient than doctor Leone's tapping ya spine This is why I'm taking my time to master a rhyme Cause I'm getting sick of just packing up dimes Just waiting, for someone, to tell on me Catch ya slipping start to trip and catch a fell on knee And I ain't tryna be a scraped up Jacob I been there once before, no made up fake stuff But it's all said and done, and my co*k's been s**ed Remember September? they tried to lock him up But, I'm shaking bacon like pork in a blender I'll bite a f**ing bullet before I'm forced to surrender Even though the block is hotter than the scorches of ember We hustling, the only known source of the tender [Hook]