[Intro: BTK]
Doin' it till my f**in' lungs shut down..
Which is probably about to be real f**in' soon..
God I need a cigarette..
I think cigarettes the last thing I want for this song
[Verse 1:]
Busy tryna keep track
With all the females
I'm itching with the disease of a game
Playin' with the same kind of details
Still wonder how many beats he sell
How many streets he sweep with all that heat
He keeps wrote on the sheet
Keeps it cold as f** when he speak
Delete that sh** and rewrite if it don't creep and leap
Up on a beat, back up off the mat
If you stack that whack, my life
Is playin' games, writin' songs
Slayin' gays, bitin' thongs
No motha f**a's finna tell me
This ain't where I belong
Pa** out from exhaustion, stare at the walls
Got a problem but can't ever seem to find the cause
Feel like I'm 'bout to fall
Pick me up, pickin' it up, pickin' it up
Metals in the clip, stick em up for the bucks, f**
Run out of money, but don't run out of luck
The pain just to maintain the trust to bust
Ain't it funny how you try so hard to get straight
Leave the d** and the cups and the games
Don't you think, sh** gon' benefit me?
At least a week? Write depression in the beats
Just to read it and wheep
Can't believe half the sh**, I see in this
Overwhelming situation
I'ma leave this b**h, plead the fifth
I drank just to feed the trip, believe me
He crazy, when he tease the grip
Almost like I'm losing track, losing faces
Fall back from a few, cause I'm losing patience
Feel I'm a patient with a mental state of this anxiousness
Come clean, plate is tainted with
A couple mistakes I made, when I played with tricks
Ain't no motha f**er here, finna get a second chance
Either take it or leave
Just get even in advance
I'm just tired of the jokes
Finna cope with dirty bands
WOO!