Guilty (feat. Kelly Kiara)

Guilty by association

Guilty for my complications

Tryna do right by doing wrong

I'm just a product of my environment

Yo, yo

I'm too deep in the street stuff

Me and Steve cutting through trees and the weeds, yo

My jewels look like they go sleep in a freezer

They got women screaming "Who's he?" like a machine gun

Tell a hater speak up, if not shut your mouth

Man spend a bag up west and they claim that they shut it down

Three words: bunch of clowns

My life's like a movie

Joey treats a Lambo like a hoopty

No time for groupies

No time for fake friends

I never been the greedy type

Nah, I always break bread

I've never been the shook type, blood, I always take risks

I trap to feed my family, you trap for the ratings

My bro's on some ape shit

Don't look at them and screw your face

It's best you unscrew that shit before you lose your face

My youngin asked me for a price on a zed of coke

I told him 1017 like Gucci Mane

Fuck the tunes I make, my team's full of mobsters

We shot drugs, we shot man, blood, we're on stuff

As yute, man, we used to play conkers

Then time flew by, we started busting off our shotguns

Then we started catching cases, man got locked up

Some got life, some got shook and went and got jobs

That's what the block does, it makes you or breaks you

When you're down and out the streets won't save you

The streets ain't faithful, the streets ain't loyal

They'll use and abuse you, then lay you in soil

I used to pray to God for new cars and a fresh chain

Now I pray to God He keeps my family and my friends safe

I seen nerds get killed for tryna get brave

Acting bad like there ain't no space for a spare grave

It hurts to see my people with a stressed face

Money buys happiness, so man are tryna get paid

Guilty by association

Guilty for my complications

Tryna do right by doing wrong

I'm just a product of my environment

Yo, yo

I got brothers six-foot, they won't breathe again

I got some brothers locked in jail, they won't be free again

You won't believe my stress, I'm tryna feed my family

And feed my friends at the same time I'm tryna feed my ends

I need to rest, lack of sleep got my head hurting

Two shots of this Henny got my chest burning

I know the feds lurking all over my team

Like flies on shit, they locked up Terry over over ten birthdays

My mum was like, "Son, get a nine-to-five"

I told her, "That's for lazy people, mum, I work nine-to-nine"

I work non-stop, I'm paid but I want more

I've done a lot of winning but I lost more

Chyeah

My uncle Alan used to smoke crack, then drink a beer

Then put on Elvis Presley songs and talk about religious things

His eyes was filled with pain and struggle

Just a crackhead, but that was still my favourite uncle

Chyeah

Crackhead Ian used to stand there with his 'homeless' sign

Begging 20p till he raised enough to phone a line

Crackhead Sue used to walk around in one crep

She OD'd and died on that park bench, madness

I just consigned my YG a ounce of coke

To me a ounce ain't nothing, but to him that's a ounce of hope

I spend more time with trees in the growhouse

Than I do my kids in my own house

Crazy

Guilty by association

Guilty for my complications

Tryna do right by doing wrong

I'm just a product of my environment

Guilty by association

Guilty for my complications

Tryna do right by doing wrong

I'm just a product of my environment

None of this was planned

But it made me who I am

I'm guilty, ah

Guilty