Smoke DZA - Ramadan lyrics

[Intro] 183rd street [Chorus: Nym Lo & (Smoke DZA)] (Lawd) Parked the spaceship in front of mama's fry (G sh*t) We was taught to squeeze 'til the drama die (Brrt) Homie, don't be the reason that your mama cry (Please don't) Heard they put her son down like Ramadan (ni**as gettin' tried left and right, homie) Then they wonder why the streets left us traumatized (sh*t ain't no game, ni**a) Traumatized (Uh), traumatized [Verse 1: Smoke DZA] I got a budget just to keep new Dior in my closet (Right) New handheld pistols on my ni**as like wallets Big business, so you know, it's a bigger deposit High-tech money machinеs to speed up the process (Uh) I don't explain thе process to novices, what's the object? Hand full of bud in a bag, off the optics Uh, they hate to see me livin' my life Them "back-in-the-days"-stories still ain't changing the price Don't get caught up in position and power, for the hour ni**as get to cappin' 'bout smoke, I light the loud up I got ni**as rich, you got ni**as clipped Embarrassed, investigated, all types of sh*t I underestimated the scripts, the hyphenate (Uh) You started off 30's and ended with Vicodins Worst thing you could do with a drug is light the sh*t The ratio from dealer to user is heightening Your life'll end [Chorus: Nym Lo & (Smoke DZA)] Parked the spaceship in front of mama's fry (G sh*t) We was taught to squeeze 'til the drama die (Brrt) Homie, don't be the reason that your mama cry (Please don't) Heard they put her son down like Ramadan (ni**as gettin' tried left and right, homie) Then they wonder why the streets left us traumatized (sh*t ain't no game, ni**a) Traumatized, traumatized [Verse 2: Benny the Butcher] It's all good 'til rules get broke, and crews get smoked It's crazy when you get rich off the truth you smoke And them ni**as that you fu*k with only poof, you broke Got really fool parole, had to trap on cruise control, yeah Uh, you know I hit the interstate scorin' 'caine Quarter thing, before I left I got a oil change Park the 63 where your b*tch stay, when you this straight The pussy always free, but the bricks ain't, but my wrist great Yeah, my only jackpot was a crackpot They say I used to be a hustler, sh*t, when that stop? My new customers ask me when that drop It's still fifty racks dropped just to wack opps When I was younger I just wanted to be a fireman I grew up fast, buying yams, supplying grams Your favorite rapper in my diet plan I kept it gangsta, my choices was live a rat, or die a man [Chorus: Nym Lo & (Smoke DZA)] Parked the spaceship in front of mama's fry (G sh*t) We was taught to squeeze 'til the drama die (Brrt) Homie, don't be the reason that your mama cry (Please don't) Heard they put her son down like Ramadan (ni**as gettin' tried left and right, homie) Then they wonder why the streets left us traumatized (sh*t ain't no game, ni**a) Traumatized (Uh), traumatized [Verse 3: Nym Lo] If we talkin' hustlers, I'm ahead of them all (Facts) And if we talkin' rap ni**as, I'm beheadin' 'em all (Uh) I did it all just to ball, but was never incarce' 'Cause a fish with its mouth closed could never get caught, uh I slide through the trenches with this .40 on my hip Deuce-deuces in the purse, a lil' shawty in my whip (Got that) I slip through mo' towns than Berry Gordy with the bricks I got rich, kid, guess I'm Tory with the bricks If I call my body-droppers they gon' shotty shot 'em Catch you in your buildin', get your lobbies rockin' Spin the block and tell 'em hop in (Hop in) Then we skrt on them ni**as like, "damn, they killed 'em" (Skrrt) Witness said they fled [?] just like some pilgrims Always on the guild then We always been them ni**as and we still them I step outside the Hilton, they film him Hop into some plush sh*t with stashboxes built in And tablets for the children, and panoramic ceilings [Chorus: Nym Lo & (Smoke DZA)] (Lawd) Parked the spaceship in front of mama's fry (G sh*t) We was taught to squeeze 'til the drama die (Brrt) Homie, don't be the reason that your mama cry (Please don't) Heard they put her son down like Ramadan (ni**as gettin' tried left and right, homie) Then they wonder why the streets left us traumatized (sh*t ain't no game, ni**a) Traumatized (Uh), traumatized