[Hook]
They don’t give a damn, unless you’re breaking your back for them
They won’t help you out the situations you in
They act like they a shoulder to lean on
They listen to your problems then they grin
This ain’t livin
They don’t give a damn about you when you drive a regular car
Then when you in that Bentley then they care who you are
When you broke they can’t see you standing next to them
But when you rich they see you from afar
This ain’t livin

[Verse 1]
If I ain’t throwing money in the club
They show no love for me in the club
Bitches didn’t wanna ride my 300
But they love the passenger side in my Bentley on dub
Why the fuck I gotta ball to be accepted
I’m not a man, I’m a medallion at a necklace
Say they my homies but I know they’d probably rob me
And leave a n***a dead somewhere in Texas
Y’all motherfuckers fake, facing friendships off the money that I make
You come around and eat when your tummy got an ache
But when I’m doing bad I promise I see not a face
God damn right, my n***a, these are the prays
Maybe they’ll give a fuck about me when I’m in my grave
Sometimes I’d rather be doing time in the states
At least I know what I’m up against behind the gates, yeah
[Hook]

[Verse 2]
Baby mama’s got my daughter seeing green
I’m not even a father, I’m an atm machine
They never call me to see how I’m doing
It’s just “we need this, we need that”
I wish I could let it ring
Sometime I wish I never wrote my first song
They wouldn’t know who I was and they would have left me alone
Sometimes I be like lord I’m ready, you can call me home
Can’t take it here no more, I would rather be gone
Y’all motherfuckers fake, facing friendships off the money that I make
You come around and eat when your tummy got an ache
But when I’m doing bad I promise I see not a face
God damn right, my n***a, these are the prays
Maybe they’ll give a fuck about me when I’m in my grave
Sometimes I’d rather be doing time in the states
At least I know what I’m up against behind the gates, yeah

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
Same n***a used to ride a fixed up Fleetwood
Today, his shoes don’t even cover his feet good
A nice neighborhood to a spot under the freeway
It’s hard to ball but to the fall off it’s so easy
When you doing good, it’s so many people down with you
Even when you doing nothing, they just hang around with you
But let the lights go off and the water stop running
Visits turn to phone calls and the phone calls stop coming
Fuck this Z-Ro shit, my name Joseph Wayne n***a
But if I wasn't Z-Ro, would they give a fuck if I came n***a
All the bullshit I go through, I guess I’m who to blame n***a
And the fucked up part about it, ain’t gonna never change n***a
[Hook]