[Intro]
(Classics)
(Okay, Jones)

[Verse]
I promise, this the realest shit I never wrote
Nah, for real
I ain't really wrote a song in some years
Bam just wrote me a letter and it made me drop tears
I remember when she told me she'd never disappear
I remember when she told me she'll always be here
See, I'm on this type of path where you can't look back
Drew blood as a kid, he got hit right in his back
No cap, I'm too pure and sometimes it hurt me
Fridge full of Wockhardt, I just might OD
Right hand up to God, I never called the police
I'll shoot for myself, 'specially if it's my beef
I be smokin' all day, shit, sippin' lean too
I hate when people say, "Stop", like what my cup do to you?
This lean way more loyal than some n***as in my proof
Six hundred for this hoodie, I don't care, I take two
B22 Diors, them be my play shoes
He ain't never had money, I can tell how he move
We eat five-star meals, you can't even go to [?]
Pills make me feel good, but I'ma stop with 'em soon
I can't talk to nobody when I really feel alone
I just want a couple days without pickin' up the phone
My city went top twenty, celebrated right at home
I'm startin' to see n***as fake, I hate it took me so long
Don't ask how I feel, I just tell it on the beats
Been out here for so long, I'ma get it like the streets
Dumb ho, you played you, you could never play me
I know you lookin' at me now like you should've kept it G