Clapp’D

It's all good

No it ain't

Cuz I'm thinking exactly the polar opposite

That's just something that we gotta say when we wanna cover up

And turn a bad thing positive

They shooting

But nobody made them look

They gotta ghetto life fetish

Middle class circus

At a lower class zoo

Quarter life conflict we all

Drug war veterans

Not everybody from the hood is a killer or a dealer or a villain

Everybody in the hood wanna do something better

For they life and they children

Anybody ever tell you different

They prolly lying tryna sell you something

Ain't nobody tryna hear that woofing

Not a motherfucker in this world'll tell me nothing

And somebody gonna play that game

They say it's only for the big boys and girls

But every game is really played the same

You gotta play it if you wanna get a turn

Hundred grand in the hand

What you look at the pistol end for?

Spin it, close your eyes

All you hear is a click

Click click click

Hear no clap

Feel no heat

Click then

Whatchu gonna do now?

Click lock shoot bang ya dead (man) got clapped

Give the man a hand he might get clapped

It was a cruel summer

Now get ready for a cold winter

Hot burners from slow dinners

Fast streets

Private soldiers for dough lenders

Whiter the crack, the wider the white of the eyes in them

And the meth venom

The dope sent them down the river and through the hoods to red door clinic

It's no different from inherited wealth

But we only inherit the struggle that goes with it

Post no bills ghosts in a shell system

Scapegoats they worship the lone shepherd

Willingly manipulated -- low effort

But who gives a fuck when you're broke, frozen in gold

Somebody tell me why Abdulle got shot

Was it the feds? Was it a plot?

All I know is I'ma hold his spot

Don't even trip young bruvv

Hashmarks in the clot

Last seconds on the clock

Tell them to shoot for the moon

But not to aim at the block

Nothing about a Glock ever show me

How to work a plan

Claim my space

Call it State Of Mind-Kurdistan