Buck 50 lyrics

[Intro]
CashMoneyAp

[Verse]
Young n*gga straight out the trenches, could tell I been through it all (Yeah)
I knew my life changed, I seen Chico lay on that floor (Yeah)
The night my brother died, through out messages, took a tour
When I scrolled up, I seen Chic' say "We gon' ball" (Forever)
That's how I came up with it, b*tches know what's up with it (Yeah)
n*ggas never f*cked with us, n*ggas, we don't f*ck with 'em
Voice of the trenches, I swear the people gon' feel me (Yeah, I know)
I swear to God it's only right I show the real me (Let's get it)
f*ck bein' humble, time to talk my sh*t (Yeah)
You know BM 850? I'ma cop that whip
Two man, passenger with me, he 'bout to smoke his zip
And we don't argue over b*tches 'cause they all got clips, you feel me?
A buck fifty, you n*ggas is politickin'
Only time that I'm worried is when a dollar go missin'
I'm the man now, bet you n*ggas don't understand now
I'm from the 'jects, I know how to break a gram down
Arab in the kitchen, I watched how to cook a brick up
You gotta know yourself and I wasn't ready to sit up
Young n*gga, big heart, big world, big sharks
If you lose yourself while you in the trenches, you get dogged
It's the summer, catch a n*gga, indictment with eight chains
All them n*ggas say they tough, but they never put in no pain
Always kept it buck fifty, know the streets f*ckin' with me
Real recognize real and none of you f*ckin' with me
If n*ggas want it, they can get it, I'ma put that sh*t in order
My uncle hatin' on me, I'm really feelin' like Porter
Older n*ggas talkin' crazy, I'm really f*ckin' they daughters
How you feelin', lil' n*gga? I'm really feelin' like Porter
Any time, get the dice, I don't chill with rats or mice
Any n*gga wanna battle, that n*gga better be nice
They all love me, I'm the man, b*tches look better on the 'Gram
How you likin' on my sh*t and then say that you got a man?
You know summertime in Harlem I'm comin' to make your block hot
Crusin' 'round these streets, I'm comin' through in a drop-top
Comin' through the east, I be froze but make the spot hot
I told my little mans he better not kiss on no thot-thot
[Outro]
Yeah, I kept it a buck fifty, n*gga
Yeah, I know the streets f*ckin' with me, n*gga
Yeah, Harlem, what's up? (Let's do it)
I know the streets f*ckin' with me, what's up? (Huh)