No Apologies

Loudest **** in the room, he gon' die tomorrow (boom)

Daddy died up in the streets for murder, ain't no sorrow (yeah)

Lost a couple hitters, but the streets don't know what I know

**** talkin' beef shit, but crack just like some tacos

Get up on my knees and pray the opps decide to pop out (boom)

My shooter he ain't finish school I call him Mr. Dropout (yeah)

See life's a bitch I know she dyking 'cause she keep the scrap out (scrap out)

I bet these **** won't get the picture 'til they mans get cropped out

Posted on straight with the gang we dunking shit like Dr. J's

Stepped on him and Michael J's you know we call that hopscotch (you know we call that)

Went triple up still making plays and if we run go separate ways no marathon

But it's a rest 'cause **** got the block out (boom, boom)

The Wayne gone keep that pistol by his Johnson he gon' rock out

To knock some **** down I told my mama I can't stop now

My **** shoot, I shoot behind 'em like we playin' knockout

Quades, he gon' wear the block up so you know I pull the mop out

Raised up in the church and I done really seen some demons

Air Glock 17 or 38, I got that scrape from Remy, yeah

Rather be a living dog than be a dead lion

If I catch my opps up in the streets, I leave 'em dead lying

Raised up in the church and I done really seen some demons

Air Glock 17 or 38, I got that scrape from Remy, yeah

Rather be a living dog than be a dead lion

If I catch my opps up in the streets I leave them dead lying

Told my brother when I die just put my gun up in my casket, yeah

I'ma go to heaven let them pussy **** have it, yeah

I'ma give 'em hell now

Get 'em through the airport, we don't gotta use the mail now

Really moving units, I ain't gotta use a scale now

No triple A, hit 'em like we playing Tunt and cut 'em like we playing Spade

Life is not a movie, it's a game, I call it triple A

I don't really fuck with **** like I'm reppin' triple K's

We from Cali, serving Carolina, then I hit the A

Black hoes say you on the top and if you not, you on the way

Shit was hard when I lost Snoop, it hurt when I look at Lil Tre

See myself up in his eyes and plus I see the murder gang (L.A. gang Trap Dickey)

Loudest **** in the room, he gon' die tomorrow (boom)

Daddy died up in the streets for murder, ain't no sorrow (yeah)

Lost a couple hitters, but the streets don't know what I know

**** talkin' beef shit, but crack just like some tacos

Get up on my knees and pray the opps decide to pop out (boom)

My shooter, he ain't finish school, I call him Mr. Dropout (yeah)

See life's a bitch, I know she dykin' 'cause she keep the scrap out (scrap out)

I bet these **** won't get the picture 'til they mans get cropped out