John Bido - Dead Broke lyrics

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John Bido - Dead Broke lyrics

This that late night sh** [Verse 1: Young Malice] I'm in the house, oiling that Mac-11 barrel Let it explode when I feel that you ain't playing fair Another tale of how I live through this chaos Strap under my pillow, barrel still hot Lost three of my closest homies this year, it ain't surprising Hurting inside, but they say our stock still rising In tune with the streets cause I'm out there daily Take my kindness for weakness, man, f** you pay me It's nothing personal, it's business 24/7 Front, I show you that you ain't the only n***a with a weapon Authentic talk from the hood's number one spokesman That Product sh**: Face Mob, Will Hen Let me deal the cards, liquor got me feeling odd I feel rich, so I'm buying everything I couldn't afford Now where you at? Hit me back like a Boost Mobile You go through the same sh** I go through [Hook: Scarface] Money my issue, might resort to a pistol If I can't get paid, then I'll send n***as out to get ya And it's a must that I touch something quick Plus I'm tired of being broke in this b**h, listen at me charlie I'm on the come up, if the come up mean a n***a gotta die dawg? Then I'mon die young, f** it, unh I'd rather be dead than have it being said That I died broke and scared instead of getting bread Yeah [Verse 2: Willie Hen] Well it's hard for real n***as to thrive amongst the fake phonies If you the truth then keep it hood with your little homies And that ain't asking much, how hard is that to really do And if you don't believe in me, then why should I believe in you The loyal type of dude and I ain't been deceiving you I'm still picky 'bout my friends and run with a chosen few Your life crazy? My living is psycho Aflac wouldn't cover me, and neither would Geico Yet and still, I scream The Product Gang until I go But how many dues a n***a gotta pay before he blow? (damn) I'm tryna make my money spitting flows But it's seeming like I make more money pimping on these hoes Gotta ask myself, will it ever change Will I ever flip the Bentley coupe or push the cherry Range Or is it back to the streets and the crime rate Anything I gotta do to get my peace of mindstate [Hook] [Verse 3: Young Malice] Whatever coast you claim, it's all the same grind People searching for a pot of gold that they may never find Love and hate stay divided by a thin line Don't need a bunch of nosy motherf**ers all up in mine Record sales up, yours on the decline Just about to finish this race, you falling behind Tiptoe to the ghetto with John Bido Got beef on your mind, I don't think so [Willie Hen] Attached by the hip to the clip and the D. Eagle Me, Face, Young, and Bido 'bout to get this money legal Living the fast life, I calculate each step If money is the mystery then tell me the secret Number one suspect, why? I got the most motives Probably the coldest, from the mouth or from the shoulders We right here, like the last men standing We ain't asking for it no more, we demanding it [Hook]