A New Day

Hey, yo

Hey, Don

Hey, yo

Yeah, turn it up

Hey, yo, pass that

Pass that, God

Yeah

Nah, nah, nah, nah

The Montegave

The Montegave, yeah

That's that premium shit right there

Bet you these **** ain't see this one coming

Hey, yo, Machine

You already know

Let's bring that fucking chaos

That terror

Hey, yo, they still trying to find a flaw

I write the bars That's just stories of the ghettos through the eyes of God

Me and the devil had a fire squad

Left them getting the lap dance from Nas X in a designer bra

Coming up, we aspire to buy a pie raw

Then we moved on to cyber fraud as time evolved

I mean, a bullet paralyzed my jaw

Still **** top fives and all

Imagine if I started trying hard

You boys ain't built for the trenches you just too brittle

My man got hit twice, drove himself to the spittle

They tough in an interview when you see them, they actin civil

Plus, I built my brand up too big to try to be little

Mama, there go that man again

The order come in from Cali

I meet him in Cincinnati

The music industry, Aggie

I'm staying indie like Halle

These underhanded heathens running rampant, gunning slanted, squeezing

We in and out them precincts, shootouts at local bars on the weekends

Technical fouls, flags on the defense

God's blessing the child that's lacking his street sense

These underhanded heathens running rampant, gunning slanted, squeezing

We in and out them precincts, shootouts at local bars on the weekends

Technical fouls, flags on the defense

God's blessing the child that's lacking his street sense

It's not a day that goes by that I'm not the greatest

Display the bitter class and think you qualified the greatest

No matter how much money you stack, you not on my A-list

The blackest grouch on the slave ship

A nightmare to addicts when crack was out on a grave shift

I turn avenues into cemeteries and corner stores to courts of law

Slamming the gavel battle the lords of war

Bodies in the corridor

Bullets enter his stomach

Then exit his lower back

Every clap is given his corridor

Haunted by demons, but I fought them off

Cold stare, scared of his sixth sense

Hear the gruesome tales of a slaughtered whore

It's chaos

Every day I'm feeling it more and more

Who cares if God's winning, if Satan's gonna ignore the score

Every street song I wrote for this movie is scored by V Don

No time for the poor peasants and peons

We need money like Elon

You ain't worth the rug that we wipe our feet on

Celine like Dion

We out here till the street lights creep on

Scriptures that's written about a sheet long

Tatted so we can recite each arm

Black fatigue squatting on our opps doing recon

Relax and squeeze

Stop and send them shots out a Nissan

These underhanded heathens running rampant, gunning slanted, squeezing

We in and out them precincts, shootouts at local bars on the weekends

Technical fouls, flags on the defense. God's blessing the child that's lacking his street sense

These underhanded heathens running rampant, gunning slanted, squeezing

We in and out them precincts, shootouts at local bars on the weekends

Technical fouls, flags on the defense. God's blessing the child that's lacking his street sense