Me, Myself & I lyrics

[Intro]
All I got is me, myself, and I, yeah
Yeah, babe, me, myself, and I
Section 8 Taliban, yeah

[Verse]
All I got is me, myself, and I, got myself again
Time is money, I need that money, got no time for no friends
Ain't nobody gon' ride like me, cause I'm gon' ride to the end
Been in f*cked up situations, where you n*ggas would bend
Play my cards, I never bluff, and I ain't throw in my hand
sh*t, I saw when times got hard, I watched my n*gga renege
He snitched, we caught that charge, I can't believe what he did
Cause he knew what we was doing before we went on that lick
I been rapping and snapping, I fell in love with this sh*t
It caught up with me, cause I be jacking since I was a litting kid
I been trippin' and goonin', and throwing rocks at the pen
All that sticking and moving, it got me doing a bid
Look, nobody gon' keep it real how I be keeping it real
Coulda snitched and got released, you know they offered a deal
Put myself in tight positions, I can't even regret em
I was scheming, times was hard, and I just needed some cheddar
My life a movie, it's Kodak, I'm the movie director
Sometimes it can scary, but I know it's gone get better
Remember when it was my people, them was gon' send me some letters
Cause I was missing my b*tches, and I was missing my fellas
Hot pocket on me, so my pants keep fallin'
They wanna take me out the game, but I just keep on ballin'
Polo'd down, pop my collar, little n*gga shot callin'
Could just hold up for me on the other line, guap calling
I'll get back to you later, I'm rollin' out of my tater
I been leaning so damn much, and now it got me disabled
n*ggas grimey', be conniving', do sh*t under the table
Just last night, John John got yoked by the raiders
f*cking 'round on the ugly, hit that boy with a taser
Once I came out the womb, I jumped straight to teenager
They say I'm a demon semen, young boy, hell raiser
If I ain't pullin' up in a foreign, then I'm pullinga caper
Project baby paper chasing, tied, they dead flies
Institution
Run up on me, send you straight to your maker
All that kush that I be smoking, you think I'm from Jamaica
But hell nah, I ain't from Jamaica, b*tch, I'm from golden acres
And I'll tag you with that 9, and that b*tch got a laser
And I'll lay a n*gga down, I'm like "f*ck n*gga, pay me"
I ain't baking, but I'm caking, I should open a pastry
I got dope in the basement