My Spot lyrics

[Intro: FMB DZ]
(Vonte on the Beat, n*gga)
Huh, pst, huh

[Verse: FMB DZ]
Hell yeah, rap changed my life, I'm still hustlin'
Sometimes I feel like people love me more when I was strugglin'
I don't trust nobody, I feel like n*ggas want my spot
n*ggas want my shine, n*ggas want everything I got
Before I let a n*gga get down on me, I'd rather rot
You know ain't no ho in my blood, I come from the rock
Ask about me on the Eastside too, I get n*ggas shot
Made them get a gun 'cause I had one, b*tch, I'm pop or die
If you ever see me by myself, just know I got thе fire
Hit one of mines, I'ma hit yours, wе goin' opp for opp
I let MJ's get my coupe clean, you know that's my guy
n*gga run up on me in this b*tch, he must wanna fly
Hit the smoke shop and grab a box of Cubanos
Me and Skeetch flyin' in the 'Vette on Forgiatos
n*gga talkin' all that fully talk like we ain't got the Os
I'll have brodie jump out with that A and do your block blow
I advise you ho n*ggas to watch what you say to me
I take everything personal, so don't play with me
Put a Nike tag on for a week and make a forty piece
Somebody else gon' take it, I might as well do it 'cause I know he sweet
Big Whoop, the biggest in America, yeah, you know it's me
Sometimes I had them days when I felt like I ain't where I'm 'posed to be
You think them n*ggas gangster, huh? Them n*ggas hoes to me
Pull up on your city by myself, b*tch, I got 'bows for cheap
All I know is buy and sale, shout out to the clientele
Up early servin' everybody, meet me at John's Grill
Phone bangin', you know my door swingin'
Ain't sh*t to put you on the news, hope we both famous
And I see your b*tch in my view, what you need, baby?
Hope you ain't tryna set the play, you'll bleed baby
They had bro locked for ten years, they need to free him
n*ggas actin' like they hittin' the road, but work at GM
Them n*ggas ain't even got more money than my BM
Made a hundred thousand, ran with Jerry-O, somebody call Tim
Notice all these n*ggas pushin' peace and I ain't mad at 'em
Catch one of these n*ggas in the streets and throw a jab at him
Or put some money on him, send a bag at him
Ain't no point in goin' to Kelly 'cause my rabs got him