Bust A Brick Nick

N- can't talk this shit like I talk it 'Cause n- ain't been where I've been I told 'em that like three years ago Who better than Griselda, n-? Who did it like us, n-? N- say they nice, but don't shake shit up like the Butch' I got a movie deal but chillin, 'cause my real life like a book Blue steel knife tor the jugg so don't be that life that I took The next time you sneak diss me, just pay me I'll write the hook Now look who the bread earner, the Eastside Ted Turner In this business, it's best to stay out yo' feelings To advance further Can't shake the bitch, I told her I get the neck but, I can't serve ya She not my type but, her pops the connect so I can't curve her Before a bullet wound, it was shit that permanently hurt me In a wheelchair, it was hard to smile on my 36th birthday Being honest, this could be karma I prolly deserve in the first place The shit I'm thinkin' 'bout on a jet, that's landing in Burbank Fuck rap, we be back pluggin' whole units to worst case These jewels on my shirt say "Bitch come here, ion' skirt-chase" Put us over, and that was my fourth felony, certainly Got a warning, I'd be in Lewisburg right now if they search me Locked in with plugs So I know that shit y'all copping, no good They get the drop, I'm the type to send fiends to shop in yo' hood I'm like 95 KG n-, I'm with the wolves But me and City Mike and Pippen 'fore Rodman got to the Bulls Before we talk paper, let's make a simple assessment My little crypto-investment was prolly triple yo' necklace On this episode of "Flavor of Love", yo' bitch a contestant 'Cause she don't ever suck dick the first night, this an exception Hide the paper somewhere safe, a place them dicks won't expect it They calculate how long it's gon' take to get to your weapon No love songs, I kept it gangster 24-seven You cryin' ass rappers' labels should send y'all n- to Ellen Ayo Butch' let me holla at you Wait, chill, chill, give me one second, nah Y'all n- light hoes you can talk when y'all done begging, nah Let's talk about the shit that I did to become legend 'Cause the money not enough no more, I want credit The money not enough for this Feel like I made to much of it Seven figure deal, tell my plug I'm still hustling Ten year anniversary, Sopranos still bubbling A Buffalo n- with a flow nobody fuckin' with In the race, I already won I guess this lap was for victory Doing songs with bigger acts, and they tell me that's going industry But look back at my history For the past five years it's like my status been tripling I get back with humility Make no excuses, came to the conclusion That y'all should hate me They wanna do this, but my shooters been cutting off water lately Too rich to incarcerate me on charges, them odds are shaky The Feds watch me get a M on tv like I'm Carson, daily Street taught me a part, my heart cold like a orphan baby The pain a reminder, I feel like these is the scars that made me Had my best run, but now lost shape Of course it's crazy I ask God to bring 'em back, pray he jump out his coffin, maybe In all-white like I ain't never sin, but you would never win How you gon' call me Hollywood bitch, and you ain't never been You know my regiment, CLS Benz, that I ain't never rent First thing she do is tell a friend, if I ever let her in They wanna know, how I'm up off records that they don't ever spin Another ten steps ahead of them, by the time it all settle in When I drop, rappers fuck then it's time, they dead again I got a closet full of measurement cups and the Presidents The Buther, n-, ahhhh