Who's Pills Are These? (What Bag Were They In?)

I'm tired, I'm tired, I'm tired, I'm tired, I'm tired, I'm tired

I'm tired, I'm tired, been blowin' on fire

I should get some sleep 'cause tomorrow we drivin'

Ruby the Pilot been pulled over twice

And I still flick the lighter, I'm tryna get higher

Fuck 5-0, bitch, tryna reach 5 and 0

They fuckin' with my hustle, man, they tryna fuck my title

Drivin' to Cali, drivin' to Brooklyn, drivin' to Texas

What's gonna be next for us?

Probably the prison, we tend not to listen

Makin' more money one show than they do in a week

Yeah, they even admitted it

Spittin' and stuffin', I say fuck the cuffin'

Smokin' and drivin' got me into trouble a couple of times

But I still keep on puffin'

Flexin' in lil' Mexico, smokin' on the Texaco

I would never save the ho, never rat and that's for sure

Data on, I never roam, always creepin' close to home

Xanax bars or methadone, local rappers on my phone

Fuck you mean? I'm gray for life, opium inside my pipe

If dyin's wrong, I'm never right, couple bitches on some ice

They treat me like I'm Easy-E, Yung Christ, no Galilee

I am such a rarity, hangin' from a Rosary

Talk shit, shit on up, ****, that where you fuck

Duh, try trick or treatin' on my head, don't make me get to toughed up

Reppin' FOD, man, anywhere, no matter where I go

Take the cash up out my hand, boy, you gon' need to hold for us

To fuck with my, my life Skywalker, so don't beat your flint torch

Screamin' money all the way home, and talkin' 'bout more hustle

Fear off the muscle, aim and bust, you playin' with a ****'s hustle

Can't fade, livin' bad

Life is some hustle