Freeway - "FUCC'EM" ft Freeway & Cuzzy Capone lyrics

Published

0 396 0

Freeway - "FUCC'EM" ft Freeway & Cuzzy Capone lyrics

Yeah we know your used to putting work that's sold n***a and we seen your paper work your told All these n***as either sniffin' gla** or they livin' off the past Where I'm blowing money fast with my bros Lately I've been seeing n***as sell they soul How you catch a case and bail out on parole I been state to state gettin money on the road And I had to reevaluate who I could talk to on the phone Switch it up, spit the game pay attention you should listen up Follow code and one day you gon' get rich as us Seven digit street n***a that ain't rich enough Forty million on the crib like that n***a puff n***as buying yachts n***as buying jets Make me wanna buy the block just to reinvest Know my young n***as catch it fore' it's nothin left Baby me the realest ever did it yeah Hopefully my day ones will remember this Keep that sh** a hunnid on until the d**h Even when I'm gone they'll see I never left Looking at the roof like, "Man I'm glad I never quit" Gots my n***as with me thought I'd never hit Stickin' to the script yeah we should never switch All my role models doin' sentences f** each and every one of 'em I fear none of 'em Frank Lukas push his roof back in front of him Leave a n***a toothless when it comes to the loot I go stupid with the bu*t of the gun, know where I'm coming from? North Philly where Frazier and Muhammad sparred Last name Akbar they callin' all cop cars When they pull you over, they might shoot you over Movin now that we true men they know who we are They took a kink from us, they X'd Malcom out You kidding me? I did my own black history Studied Illmatic raised the roof out Yeah, that's the main reason why these other rappers can't get with me f** em all, I hear a whistle know it's time to ball Y'all n***as throwing fouls but y'all don't wanna brawl How you going to mission with no vision f** Stevie's like a sight Look at Stevie's ambition We hood n***as that did it Different n***a now that my pops gone Low tolerance promised he'll get popped on Microwave the bullets sounding like popcorn Grind heavy the cops come or the rocks gone Same n***a 'cept with the time changed When I couldn't get money I used to find ways Countin' thousands up for cavvy in the hallway