NoDotWon - Something's Gon Give lyrics

Rest In Peace Lamont Coleman... It's NoDot-mothaf**in-Won. I got something to tell you: they ain't gon' let us in. But something's gon give, period [Verse 1] Ay In the drought they liquidate you, the flood they come to drink Public fees for a government funded for company Puppeting, believe that they money coming with strings Nothing's for free in a country constructed in slavery But I ain't slaving for benjamins, Benjamin slave for me Tell money to make me money, forever enchained to me You hecklers hemming the hustle but never getting the green While I'm waving from Monticello you bottom dwellers in need Of bacon and mozzarella, the darkest hell is in greed One eighth of this Donatello got my propellers at speed To race away from my demons like Icarus split from Crete But innocence is ignorance; its sin or sink in the sea You didn't think it of me like He didn't think it of she Why you guard the garden of plenty? They Eden so I don't eat? Hell nah, if he sinning then send him a hell yeah Ain't a need for no cell cause he fell into hell here (hook) Yeah, it ain't no road from this He alone in the coldest sh** where the hopeless live This ain't a song for the soloist But that's all that she wrote for this, something's gon' give Yeah, something's gon' give Yeah I said something's gon' give, something's gon' give Yeah, cause I'm gon' live Yeah I said something's gon' give, cause I'm gon' live [Verse 2] Ay So what you telling me now? Don't give a sh** cause you ain't telling me how and that's the truth Matter fact that's the proof, cause I bet how's prolly what it Is that you isn't telling me now, is that the truth? Sabotage by saboteurs camouflaging as cavalry In reality carnivores tryna gnaw on my calories But they can't k** no matador grabbing bullsh** by the horns In a city bullets galore where they sending bull to the morgue Like BOW, in Oakland California like whaa These n***as ain't sh** in my Town, I put that on God, and I ain't got sh** but my mind But swear I got visions o' mine, a n***a ain't Lying but gaming's well-acquainted to crowds of rappers Engaged with the loudest rappers, a stranger to calefactors Who blaze in a cold world filled with sadists and malefactors Who take from your tank to stay in the race 'til they outta gas cause... (hook) Yeah, it's East Oakland in this mothaf**a