[Intro]
There's a lot of things in this world you got to accept, you know
Especially me, listen

[Verse 1]
A lot of n***as be playin' the fool
And I ain't havin' that shit like prayin' in school
I'm gonna keep more tools than True Values that I know how to use
I don't need "how to's"
N***a's don't believe they can bleed or bruise
That's why solo n***as always leave in two's
Weed and booze'll have n***a's leaking from wounds
Ain't no comin' back home, Mom's leasin' your room
N***a's will lose their grins when it's Lupe and friends
And them orange juice Timb's in a foregin coupe that swims
Now a days emcee's be wildin'
And my mic check be better than they whole album
They wonder why they can't touch it
Cause my shit stay over there head like carry on luggage
I'd give it to any performer on any budget
The rhyme in the I am n***as want nothin' of it

[Refrain]
You got to, accept the troubles, it's not like it's hard
Yeah no choice but to, accept the troubles, it's not like it's hard
You know you got to, accept the troubles, it's not like it's hard
Accept the troubles n***a, live with it
You got to, accept the troubles, it's not like it's hard
Yeah, listen, yeah
[Verse 2]
I'm never blunted
Cause table's can turn like 1200s
But I keep a 'three-eight' on that burn next to my stomach
Shells punished concerned well from it
Cause I learn customers return if the product is humming
Yo it's Was, one hundred will walk for duke
Runnin' best believe them bullets be in hot pursuit
Especially don't pull it dawg it's not for you
You dressed up like prom and deaded I'm the alarm
I got Winter in my grill and Summer in my palms
And numbers on your Moms dumb and dumbers for the strong
I know them bars is hurting cause I'm a hard working dark child
Like R. Jerkins I see the sharks lurkin', honest, hungry
CCF sponser the alumni and rep Madison constant money
I'm a fast learner with a fast burner
And I hope you can fast, cause there's no eating when it's my turn to

[Refrain]

[Verse 3]
Am I what you expected, the good die young and I've been resurrected
The hood's my son, I'm quite impressive
Best believe it's yayo with WJ Goals and them writin' credits
Yo, I mouth piece n***as swearing ya tough
And you're that sweet, that nasty, that gushy stuff
And that 8-40 hoody with the wooden guts
With the AK 4-fully that'll cook you and ya tux
Ya ain't thorough, you got it mixed up like Dourough
Just cause they in suits that don't mean they the Bureau
Your small time so close to worthless
Only feds at your house is the Postal Service
It's all love why try and hate us
Don't make me call thugs
And you shook like vibrators
Head shots to ruin your linings and tapers
We hustlas flip cane like five Phi Thetas
Understand n***a
[Refrain]