3501 Woodward lyrics

[Intro]
Huh?
Detroit raised me
Detroit, let me walk you through my city
Huh?

[Verse]
I used to live in Section 8 housing with my pops
My hood was the gun range, I'm used to hearing shots
Lost a couple of my close friends to this sh*t
Neck froze, heart cold, head still hot
Judge talkin' 'bout my music in the court room
He don't wanna see me pop, he wanna see me rot
Earned everything I got, wasn't born with a lot
Dwayne Johnson in the pot, hit a head with the rock
Tore the baking soda 'til it lock, open up the shop
I ain't seen nobody on the corner with me, Ronnie Lott
f*ck I look like beefin' with a Papa Doc?
I could not f*ck with no b*tch that's out hеre givin' lame n*ggas twat
Bond No. 9 mixed with Prada and thе Baccarat
I bring extra luggage on the flight 'cause I shop a lot
When my young n*gga see an opp, he tryna pop his top
We gon' keep the trap doors swingin' 'til the block get hot
I can have a hundred 'bows pull up 'fore a blunt get rolled
Wrist baptized and my neck dunked in gold
Broke all the 'bows down to zips, this an onion roll
If I don't make at least fifteen hundred, I ain't comin' home
I need a pretty-ass b*tch that accept my flaws
I been puttin' in work, I'm goin' extra hard
I like hand-in-hands, I don't really F with fraud
Still can't believe they stretched my dog
Still can't believe my life lookin' make-believe
Knew how to make some cheese 'fore I knew my ABCs
Brodie in that n*gga bush tryna bake his beans
Did Amiri all year, I'm finna play Celine
They gon' really blitz n*ggas if I say it's green
I don't waste my words, everything I say, I mean
I be fresh as hell, all the b*tches say I'm clean
I know some old n*ggas that'll kill a brick for me
How I make the 'bow money look like brick money
All I know is get money even with my eyes closed
Man, these n*ggas givin' fake pressure like a rhinestone
n*gga, I could sell a hundred 'bows with a blindfold (Huh?)
I ain't gon' lie, my mind gone, I'm kinda zoned out
I got a lot of money, I don't need no clout
I got a whole route
Young n*gga made two hundred in a whole drought
I cannot fake this sh*t
I cannot make this up
I know the b*tches love me, these n*ggas hate my guts
My Drac'll leave a n*gga flat, you gotta scrape him up
Sold so many boxes for my plug, that n*gga gave me one
I don't know how to love b*tches, never gave me love
My mama raised a good man, I'm tryna raise me one
I never be havin' no time, I'm tryna save me some
I was raised by a good man and an amazing woman, huh?
And me, my mommy, and my sister, they taught me how to love
Took 'em twenty years, but they finally acceptin' that I'm a thug
Family members wanna be around me 'cause I got a buzz
Where was y'all at when I was stealin', I was robbin'?
When I was hungry, gettin' fired from them jobs, man, I had to rob
n*ggas played it crazy, I ain't stress, I left it up to God
Worth enough to put cheese on his head like I'm Randall Cobb
Money over b*tches, I be with the mob, huh?