Que - Intro (The 6th Man) lyrics

[Intro] Sixth man, n***a With cash like your neighborhood brick man, n***a Let these co*ks**ers sleep, man f** ‘em [Verse] Call log filled with in-calls I don't even need to make out-calls Everybody needs some f**ing help My momma told me I would be my downfall People sleeping, like I sound like these n***as Plus the label's playing foul ball Before I sell my soul, I'll go to sell some bowls And they can label me a f**ing outlaw Remaining humble dealing with these crackers Is like trying to pull teeth from a toddler Make you wanna walk inside their building, pull it out And put their brain right by their collar Rico Tune, they taught me chalk it up Just charge it to the game and put that sh** on wax But where I'm from playing with people's money Gets you mummy-wrapped and gets you f**ing wacked That's a f**ing fact, and I ain't used to that And my f**ing jaw's sore from biting my tongue Like a vampire I can taste the blood But these paink**ers got me feeling numb Since they f**ing sleeping, they gon' reap the benefits And see what happens when you unleash a beast Ungrateful a** motherf**ers Don't appreciate it when you try to feed the streets They must not know a n***a play for keeps ‘Cause the people ‘round me gotta f**ing eat Cut some n***as off, ‘cause all they did was leach And if you took it personal, feel free to leave [Interlude] (Smell me?) f** you and your opinion You can have your opinion about me, n***a Your opinion don't put no money in my pocket And that goes for ex-b**hes, ex-friends And for all these bloggers comparing a n***a One hit wonder… Who? [Verse 2] f** these critics and you f**ing bloggers That be typing write-ups comparing a n***a Writing paragraphs like they f**ing know you And when they come around, they just stare at a n***a And the ones who writing ain't even rap savvy And truth be told, they really scared of n***as Make a n***a wanna grab the stick And like Brian Nichols wheelchair a n***a Two hits in one year and motherf**ers Wanna play this game and call me Bobby Johnson f** this rap game, and all that famous sh** f** a record deal, just hand me my deposit I was seventeen when homicide detectives Pulled me out of cla** and started showing me pics And not once did I break a sweat A n***a held it down, and I ain't tell them sh** They told me all the time that I was facing Plus the list of charges and I still ain't flinched From hooping live on ESPN To facing five and losing scholarships Then n***as started laughing when I started rapping Crazy how they took me as a joke Fast forward and now them same n***as Want to work with Que and they're still broke [Outro] Yea, you dig? But see, I'm quick to go Hollywood on a n***a Quick to catch up in the industry Like Meek said, n***a It's levels to this sh** And I ain't even see you, n***a We're not on the same level We don't f** the same types of b**hes We don't drive the same types of cars We don't even smoke the same type of weed, my n***a And we damned sure ain't in the same tax bracket You dig? Straight up I don't want to kick it, I don't want to hang out I'm damned sure don't want to collab, or do a song with you If we wasn't cool back then, what makes you think we could be cool now? Come on, man do the math It's simple— I'm three years deep in this sh**, man I've been rapping for four First time I ever touched the mic was in two thousand eleven, n***a When I got kicked out of school—hooping, n***a Like I told y'all, I'm not ‘on lie on the Intro, n***a I'm a hooper I just switched up to hustling Don't forget that