JT the Bigga Figga - Ain't Nothing Changed lyrics

[ VERSE 1: JT The Bigga Figga ] We play hardball, runnin these streets in different routes Make the paper count, stuffed in the couch, we got clout All I talk about is cheddar-chasin, we in the Jets In a parking lot in a bubble goose rockin a vest So we mean-muggin, whole trunk full of goodies Burner gloves, Timbos, Levis and the hoodies I'm in and out of B-210, juice & gin Crack the window when you smokin them bidi's, pa** the Hen Overdrive in the pa**enger side, my n***as ride For the westside, 415, ???? By the look in his eyes, you never been around the block though Bustin off rounds or crack dealin to keep it hot tough Dancin with the shift, get skirtin, illegal motion Stoppin for the cops and it's curtains, so keep coastin When they dust for prints ain't no punks in this And if they ever bring the drama get the pumps for this [ Chorus: Cosmo ] We ain't got sh** to lose but much to gain We young thugs who done felt much pain Drug dealers who touched caine Stuck in the game like 'f** fame' Makin weak cats tuck they chains Ain't nothin changed [ VERSE 2: k**a Tay ] I serve a punk quick like Serena and Venus Foul language, broken English, but my style's the cleanest I was born on the East but I reside on the West Officially Supernatural, so I ride to the d**h Express my plans to my fans, put my spirit in lyrics Eternal threats after a mic check, let the whole world hear it They call me Mister Mafioso, the one and only Runnin a mob, gettin the job done, no love for the phoneys I'm representin WCM to the fullest, my n***a Pullin strings like a trigger, posted up with the stigma I lay my hat somewhere in ???? protectin my family My homies ain't understandin me cause they live in a fantasy I got deep ties and I'll keep wise, respect from the West to the Eastside These gees ride just to put it down in my British Knights and my Levis But now we all O.G., livin casual, ready to travel Ain't no equal to this God Mob crew, who wanna battle? [ Chorus: Cosmo ] [ VERSE 3: Cosmo ] We livin in the last days where gats spray Hittin cats from blocks away Crooked cops tryin to stop the pay They think we rockin lley Tryin to monitor the ways that we operate Cause we won't cooperate We stay large, we break jawbones and get our ball on On the block hustlin dope till it's all gone I'm almost all grown, I got a .380 Beretta and it's all chrome I know I'm all wrong for all the thug livin and drug dealin I put my ears to the streets but all I'm hearin is these slugs peelin When they come k**in ain't no words fo' All you seein is beanies, black pistols and herb smoke Dirty money wrapped in rubberbands Young k**as dyin over scrilla, I heard he went out over a hundred grand Penitentiary cells blocks Is full of young thugs who ain't got no choice but to sell rocks I know my future was planned for me to succeed I'd die to see my homie G-Spot and mama live free A lotta s**ers wanna get me, plottin on seein me Dead, got they Glocks aimed for my kidneys [ Chorus: Cosmo ]