Two Step (feat. King Fantastic)

I always knew life could be super short Ever since they busted out the super sport Brevity, levity, bitter I could never be Young for a nigga born in the late seventies Heavenly, my wife cause she loves me in spite Of all the crazy shit I be saying when we fight Shout a kite to my nigga locked up, now Reece home Making music for the kids, bitch we grown Put your phone down, look me in the eye Or you can talk that shit to another guy I swear to God I would kick you in the button fly And jump up and down on your skull 'til you fucking die Y'all probably want to dance so ignore me That club life ain't ever been for me You basic bitches just bore me If I got to buy you a drink you can't afford me Gun shots on a good day No ski masks, that's the hood way Little kids wishing that they could play Looking for a hook or something Jay-Z would say I got two shots left in my .22 two step Two shots left in my .22 two step Two shots left in my .22 two step Two shots left in my .22 two step Deuce-deuce in my tennis shoe Hood nigga brought a burner to the interview Might catch a beef on the bus home Tell them gang-bang bullies get the fuck gone In my zone with a brand new playlist Walked right past my ex, didn't say shit Then I changed my mind like, "Ayye bitch!" "Tell your new boyfriend he can't fake this!" Spent my last check on some new kicks The rest at the movies on my new chick I got fired on some bullshit Snitch, fuck-boy that I never should've fooled with And I ain't ever wrote a résumé But I had my cousin make me one yesterday I need more hours and some better pay Back when I was hustling that was something I would never say Ten toes down nineteen seventy-nine Southern California dummy repping heavy with mine These motherfucking actors are not odd to a factor Killer Reece [?] is a cold black bastard No master, no father, I raise me crazy A nigga clean it up, when I had a couple babies Well maybe, just maybe, you get the '08 me Fresh out the county feeling crazy No lizard, eight months feeling turnt, don't play me I used to be a mess my nigga Only thing could kill me was stress my nigga Had to give that shit a rest my nigga I just did a couple years, none left my nigga I can't do another stretch my nigga So it's either shut it down, or it's death my nigga