Long Story Short Testo

Testo Long Story Short

Uh, you hear me knocking, right?
Let me in then, nigga
Let me talk my shit for a minute
Right, right, right
It's like the first 48 or somethin'

I seen shit in my life you niggas dream, now I live a dream
The G wagon, this money green
On to bigger things
I'm taking one for the team, gotta beat the scene
Shit ain't always what it seems
Can't stop now
Westside Con had it locked down
Butcher came through, now I'm bout to lock a spot down
Feel like Kobe in his rookie year
I'm Jordan without the rings
Young Ginobli with the curly hair
Iron Mike in the first round
Like Ali on the ropes, Emmitt Smith for the first down
Rеmember when I bought my first pound
Hanging out thе whip, black .38 and blew my first rounds
At 16 I was a street nigga
I used to package nickel bags then go and post in the street with 'em
These niggas wasn't in the streets with us, ain't ever eat with us
See that we on, they try to beef with us
Face the facts, what kind of hate is that?
Just know you send them little shots my way, we come and spraying back
This slug probably break his back
Let's take it back, tie a fuck nigga up and hit him with the axe
Couldn't hold me like the old Shaq
Pump crack, load 32 shots up in the old Mac
Not a gangsta, he a old rat
Heard niggas speaking up on a body and went and told that
All the snitching got the game twisted
And they letting niggas live
They don't play it right, the game's different
Everybody wanna be the man
I seen a OG make it to a thousand from a half-gram
Started stacking, now we boss status
Do it right, make a couple hundred grand off a small package
Living lavish but we started average
AMG headrest in the V riding in S classes
Fresh pair of Cartier glasses
It get a little tragic, missing my mans, talking to his ashes
He been gone for some years now
Told him we here now
Keep rolling blunts to slow the tears down
Still wishing I could see his face
He in a better place
Gotta retaliate, just play it safe
Got a mask with the Joker face
I know a nigga caught two, three bodies with a broken .8
More aware as I was raised in it
I was cool with all the robbers and thieves, know all the grave diggers
Where I'm from this how they made niggas
And you had to be a killer, a cop, or you a paid nigga
Pick a route and try to make it out
'Cause them niggas ain't your friends, for a price they'll take you out
I ran the streets like a slave, nigga
Free my dogs behind the wall and rest in peace to all that ain't with us

Ain't with us, for real