RobLo - Isn't Thiers (Ft. Big Simz, Fee Fee & Joe Blow) lyrics

Intro: Blow, blow Check a real n***a out though Joe Blow's Verse: I think back when I ain't had a pot to piss in, now they Saying Jack Mic I guess I'm Scottie Pippen, getting rap Checks selling dope and steady pimping, broke n***as So funny to me Eddie Griffin, got a brick of lean but I ain't Sellin' em' sicker, feds found out everything from n***as telling They're b**hes, getting round ole' anybody telling there business But if they ever catch me I ain't tellin' them singing, Feel like I'm Malcom X I got a hell of a vision, but it's hard living when my n***as Dead or in prison and I ain't perfect either so I always ask for Forgivness, cause if I ever catch this n***a then I'm smacking his Children, I don't just rap without living that's how we do in the bay I'll send my n***as out in London to hit you with the k, you f**ing s**ers n******gs shooting at you every day, it's the Mob we really moving this weight Big Simz's Chorus: I'm talking bout dem dem dem cold Nights these estates, they're talking bout a Life that really isn't theirs ain't No question, we Mob Figgas Cause down south We rob n***as, guns High evade from me Young g's move weight For me, wait for me, just tell Em' we don't play and know that We do this every day, from London to the Bay Fee Fee's Verse: Don't talk about that life you've never seen, 32 sweets in the magazine it's no Dream, people lost people so they want to pop people, living in London we gripping guns And it's not legal, some little n***as no haircuts, they don't care much, his t-shirt Never Ironed, but his white tee got the iron, you get flashy for the b**hes, we Just see you and get violent, get money look bummy and keep a crop full of ounces Smoking on a foul zip, I need my mansjid and my prayers, all my people dead or doing Mad years but that's life round here, yo these n***as queer, I ride out to The Jacka In a stolen whip listening to them ganstas and them hustlers and we're shooting at Them gangstas and them hustlers, f** them ba*tards, if you f** with Mill your whole Circle will get touched up, from the Bay to London you know it's filled up with cameras But still broad day we lock them roads off with them cannons Chorus: I'm talking bout dem dem dem cold Nights these estates, they're talking bout a Life that really isn't theirs ain't No question, we Mob Figgas Cause down south We rob n***as, guns High evade from me Young g's move weight For me, wait for me, just tell Em' we don't play and know that We do this every day, from London to the Bay Ill Mill's Verse: It's me Mill talk of the south, run upon a n***a put the gun up in his mouth, leave all His brains on the floor then I'm out and I do this for my n***as in the heart of the south West part danger zone, big bearded n***as and they're blazing the chrome, all about the money When we're touching the roads and we're driving them cars that the feds can't catch, money on The endz so we bring that back, double up the p's cause my p's my stack, it's major motion picture movie sh** when I bounce on the track, I do this for my n***as sitting down in the trap, metal on my waist With a house full of cats, p's near my balls and a hand full of wraps and we can't go sleep Because the feds might raid it's bait, it's ghetto life I'm tryna tell you people die,I'm selling d**, I'm on the Roads I'm tryna live I try, I'm in this game for the p's, certified roll with a team that will squeeze Roll on your endz anytime that it's beef, and I will jump out in the middle of streets like, like We f** with the Bay run upon a n***a like pa** that yay, run upon a n***a like pa** that cake, run upon a n***a and Blast that gage (2X) Chorus: (2X) I'm talking bout dem dem dem cold Nights these estates, they're talking bout a Life that really isn't theirs ain't No question, we Mob Figgas Cause down south We rob n***as, guns High evade from me Young g's move weight For me, wait for me, just tell Em' we don't play and know that We do this every day, from London to the Bay