U.N.L.V. - Stressed Out lyrics

[Verse 1: Cellski] Yeah Started off selling dope with twenty dollars Doubled my money, made forty, bought a fifty shot from this baller Cut it down to ten shots at two knots Made one twenty on the block and now I got to go re-cop A quarter ounce so I can bounce up to a whole And so son made some money back now I'm foldin' A little mail making sales copping zips now Getting my money on sewing up my side of town Getting fetti, now I'm ready to be the f**ing man Trying to serve weight instead of having rocks in my hand Just yesterday my double ups just bubbled up Having all kinda dead presidents in my pockets crumpled up Stacking mail, clientele is what I'm buildin' In my buildin', straight dope fiends with ghetto children That's how I'm livin', been livin' it since a baby No if, ands no maybes and that's why a n***a just go crazy Or maybe it's the dank that make me think and stress With this nine make a n***a undress and cop to a less I'm just a young thug, selling dope and d** The city that I'm from really ain't got no love The inner-city hoodlums shootin' up the block Because last week my n***a was on they side and he got popped And my n***as tryin' to go the right route And that right there keep a n***a stressed out I'm stressed out, mayne [Verse 2: SB of UNLV] With the realest n***as trigger-happy all off in Cali Jacking everything from a pizza man to a taxi now see We in this game we make D though In my truck with my socket tools and a Desert Eagle Off some dodo serving 'caine, keeps me cautious [?] But now I'm living that fast life, push the pedal to the floor So, this game I developed from my older brother Maintain my paper and the hookers never to put before your business My potnas lowriders on the corner swang get his yola Back with Berettas, we poppin' coppers Real hustlers serving these baseheads hubbas Now seeing this cream's making a k**ing And I'm on my turf jookin', keeps a grip in my pocket of my Pendleton f** them rollers rollin' violently when boomin' Seems a gang of folks come out when the set be movin' Them crack addicts, them dice shootas Them doped-out baseheads gone on that hoota A n***a stressed out [Verse 3: Baldhead Rick of UNLV] Stressin', stressin' as f** when a n***a gotta duck From the n***a bustin at your a** in a Datsun buck' So your best bet is to hit the cuts and creep Grab your H-K gun, n***a that's done so you can put these n***as to sleep Kids are bustin' and bustin' 'em while they tossin' me up From the bang, pop shake them more, bust Now these f*ggot n***as are smashin' through the cuts That's what I thought, f**in' with this boy, a G Raised up in the back of the God damn f**in' U-N-L-V streets San Fran-psycho, the land of the lunatic Where n***as will put the gun in your mouth and unload the whole clip Ruthless when the [?] got down, f**in' riders that's down with [?] Case we gotta spend some on the marks like them f**in [?] Blastin' the task with a face mask keepin' away from the jackin' Because I'm a black a** ghetto inner-city hoodlum a**a**in A violent n***a known for packin' a tec, a Smith & Wess Decapitate n***a's heads up quick, put fifteen holes in your chest Because a n***a like me takes the stress off the day Too many stressed out bosses that's in this mine field go blank 'Cause a n***a readdy to take out a baller with the clout Me and Swoop and U-N-L-V and Cellski straight stressed out [Lil Swoop] Got a nine, your a** is in the line of fire Put a pause on your life now you'll just retire 'Cause when you f** with Swoop you get f**ed real quick Bucks on that a**, like I was Steve Seagal, b**h It's that real [?], got that choice you better feel me In k**a Cali, where n***as show no f**in' pity About a b**h at all, never sip that eight ball But pop me some of that Hen' and that Mad Dog Twenty twenty, I got ten on a twomp sack Let's roll it up, blow it up, get lit, 'cause it's borin' on the track And plus them rollers out all damn day y'all Let's dodge 'em in the cut, get these punks off our balls 'Cause I'm doing illeg' up in these city streets Packin' grams giving up tens four for thirty So when you roll through the 'view look for Little Swoop And I'm a have my fat all damn day for you And for the hoes, you ain't gettin' no love Me, plug a hoe and make myself look like a punk? Hell nah, I ain't gone brown-nose in ninety-four 'Cause that ain't how the d-o game goes Stressed out