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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
T.I.
Vocals
Kevin Gates
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kevin J. Gilyard
Songwriter
Clifford Harris, Jr.
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Y.C.
Producer
Javar Rockamore
Producer
Elliot Carter
Mixing Engineer
Randy Warnken
Recording Engineer
Yc
Producer
Lyrics
Lucas Brasi
Louie B, it used to be they treated me like Dave Chapelle
Day to day, I got my weight up, heavyweight, I weight the scale
Trap or die, we survived, unorganized, you go to jail
My lil' young bitch a gangsta, how I keep it, that's my yeah
And that other bitch gon' bail when they find out you can't make bail
Invest in you before you ever place your love in someone else
Bread Winner alumni status, told my brother it ain't nothing else
I'm in that industry, they digging me, got stripes under my belt
Biscayne by the beach, I got money in my reach
Ticket status, Dior flag hang out my black Amiri jeans
Bitch bad, if I don't like the way she acting I'ma leave
Drop a bag and get you seen, park the whip hop out on feet
I'ma big soldier cooking Cola, bring that water to a boil
Smell the odor, drop the yola, let it melt down to the oil
Kitchen stove I'm standing over, watching over Pyrex jars
Held it down on prison yards, court of law, I'm project hard
Designers stores inside the mall, rocking ice no body guard
Lotta work, shoutout to to God, working out my body hard
Bullet wounds, I'm bearing arms, tatted bad, my body scarred
Born hard, ain't no facade, exotic whips in my garage
Run with **** who gon' step behind the kid and take they charge
I'm in charge, got some shit around my wrist, two hundred large
If I stretch 'em let the Lord forgive 'em, bitch, 'cause I'm not sorry
I be swaggin' all on campus, I'm in college taking classes
Did the Urkel looking nerd, selling birds, I'm rocking glasses
In the trenches of Atlanta jumping out the back of Phantoms
Everybody 'round me strapped 'bout nailing shit then we got hammers
Everybody 'round me stamped, show paperwork, now check my jacket
I get active, I get active, I get active, I get active
I get active, I get active, I get active, I get active
Everybody 'round me stamped, show paperwork, now check my jacket
A three time convicted felon, money long and I get active
Whoever dwells in shelter of the Most High
Will rest in the shadows of the Almighty
I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress
A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand
But it will not come near you
You will only observe with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked
If you say and believe the Lord is my refuge and you make the most high your dwelling no harm will overtake you
(King)
Lord forgive 'em
For the shit they say about me, they don't know me
They wouldn't play if they knew eighty ****'ll take these charges for me
Hard to judge me when you knew what I came from, hell hole, hip-hop dodged it for me
Hard to sell me on any that bullshit, if it real guarantee God'll tell me
Started selling
Yay in the sixth grade, if you hating bet yo' heart'll tell it
Started bailing
When you see me and a crew of ex cons cold hearted felon
Target melons
That what we did, nowadays, they spray you started yelling
Started telling
But on IG you hard as hell'n
I'ma tell ya some serious, ****, come in here
Tryna boost ya career, I ain't commandeer
I'ma commandeer the situation, treat 'em like a hunting deer In the frontier
Listen I been king twenty one years, took losses, never shed one tear
That's 'cause even when the future unclear, confidence always had a ton of here
Sucker **** we ain't fond of here, mommas, please don't bring your sons up here
Just because he thinks its fun up here he gon' have to raise his gun up here
You don't raise 'em right, they gon' lay him right down, make him pipe down, yeah yeah
Treat 'em like a clown in a nightgown, catch 'em slipping, get his nose wiped down
Pulling up in old schools so clean, still politicking with some dope fiends
Probably telling me to keep my nose clean, looking like I'm dropping off a whole thing
But ain't touch the shit since the nineties, all the trapping I done put behind me
But my inner circle still hella grimey, so I ever go broke you know where to find me
Like a Peloton I'm forever riding, I'ma legend, ****, ain't never dying
When the pressure was on I ain't never hide, even when the bullshit was set aside
Bet I was there when whoever died, retaliation, I was front line
Now the elevation of my mind got a **** tryna make myself calm down
Still memories of the inner G of lifting guns up and kicking does in
Hopped off the porch, ten toes in, many called but a few chosen
**** bark like a Bullmastiff
But bite like a lil less
I get active, can't touch me without getting stuck like a mf'n cactus
I get active, I get active, I get active, I get active
I get active, I get active, I get active, I get active
Everybody 'round me stamped, show paperwork, now check my jacket
A three time convicted felon, money long and I get active
Written by: Clifford Harris, Clifford J. Harris, Jr., Kevin J. Gilyard