Lyrics
Let them **** have the Grammys, we got the streets
We rich already
And my chick the baddest
This Roley like my trophy
Young ****
When they needed motivation
(What you do?)
I gave 'em hope
When my **** needed money
(What you do?)
I gave him dope
Every time we went to war
(What we do?)
We gave 'em smoke
(Brrr, brrr)
Fiends was copping, I was broke
Fuck that shit, we gave 'em soap
They forgot we gave 'em hope
(Hope)
I would spend time on that corner tryin' stack me a hundred up
(Woo, woo, woo)
Strapped with that Glock with on my hip shit the coppers was running up
(Woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo)
I look at these **** and I can tell they are not one of us
(They are not one of us, not one of us)
I ride in the back like a **** that can't ride the front of the bus
(Oh)
They had it segregated, bulletproof Caddy, I escalated
Stepped up my game like a escalator
When you shine like I shine, you get extra haters
Seen 'em ride with the fake and I hesitated
"Wait, these **** serious?"
(These **** serious?)
Or maybe Meek Milly delirious
(Delirious)
Judge had to sentence a ****, no period
(No period)
I'm puttin' fear in these ****
(Fear in these ****)
Ain't sparin' these ****
(No)
I cut out your head with a hair on the trigger
(Hair on the trigger)
(Brrr)
Try to reach for my chain, shit I deal with you ****
I end one of you ****
(Hey, hey)
Had the paramedics screaming, "Clear!", on you ****
(Woo, woo)
Uh, back in the Phil
We gon' get to the money and stack up that dough 'til it way up
'Member them bitches?
They played us
Back in the day like a Sega
(Woo)
Now I got paper
Young **** doing so major
**** is hater, look at they faces
Yeah, we still ballin', bitch, it's the Chasers
(Oh, oh)
I gave 'em hope
When my **** needed money
(What you do?)
I gave him dope
Every time we went to war
(What we do?)
We gave 'em smoke
(Brrr, brrr)
Fiends was copping, I was broke
Fuck that shit, we gave 'em soap
They forgot we gave 'em hope
Uh, look at the money and stack it up
I talk about it, I bag it up
(Huh)
You poppin' shit on your Instagram
(Fuck)
Shit that you're poppin' ain't adding up
(Yo, yo)
Shit that you're poppin' ain't makin' sense
I got fifty reasons say you're takin' dick
(Takin' dick)
And it's fifty reasons I should kill ****
(Kill ****)
But for real ****, I been taking trips
(Taking trips)
With my Philly ****
(With my Philly ****)
Got the richest chick, she's from your hood
(Woo)
**** hatin' on me, I ain't really trippin', shit, I'm good
(Good)
(Woo, woo)
I be in the 40 with the .40 on me like I should
(Woo, woo)
I be deep in your hood where you never be at
Be with them guys that you never could dap
You could never adapt
You know the game, if you cosign a rat, you forever a rat
We were never with that
(With that)
You tried to go "Money" May with that paper
But now you in debt 'cause you never was that
Fuck is you high?
You know better than that
Mention my name and Berettas with that
I move for real in these streets
In the world with that piece I'm like Metta with that
(Metta with that)
Fuck what you heard
(Heard)
I'ma get mine out the curb
(Hey)
I'ma just sit back, I watch and observe
('Serve)
How ****, they didn't ride the wave and they surf
(Surf)
I'm on my surfboard, this what I worked for
Mention my name, the shit your get merked for
Shit you get robbed for, shit you get killed for
(Shit you get)
Shit you get carried boxes into church for, oh
(Oh)
I gave 'em hope
When my **** needed money
(What you do?)
I gave him dope
Every time we went to war
(What we do?)
We gave 'em smoke
(Brrr, brrr)
Fiends was copping, I was broke
Fuck that shit, we gave 'em soap
They forgot we gave 'em hope
(Hope, hope, hope)
Written by: Jeffrey Rjobinson, Robert Rihmeek Williams