The Book Of Al Kapone lyrics

b*tch I only speak the truth

You n*ggas play ballin

I know a n*gga who wasted his whole youth

Cause he was playin cautious

Right now I'm heading to the booth

Cause I get pape often

I might be being rude

But if you don't wanna see me lose

Then buy this caine off me

(?) spazzin in my ear talking bout plays (?)

He don't get in the way

He just tryna get some caine

And he ain't prank callin
Bro just called and said he cooked

He tried to prank call me

My unky seen me make 300 Gs

Now he want pape off me


Yeah

I guess he see I'm getting paid more

I'm hood rich but ain't as good as what it seems

Think I should pray more

She want me cause I'm me

She bitter sweet what would I stay for


Hmm


I ain't never save no whore I made her pay for it
I'm on my tony hawk I grind 90 days straight

Come get a skateboard


Hmm


Not the MC I got that hammer

I made it make (?)

My phein mad she bought a old bag

And it was (?)

I just sold a slab I'm kinda low on crack

But I can make more

Why lil dog he leave the crib

And he ain't make the store

They caught him hopping in the whip
Then walked up close

And then he sprayed the door

Them headshots

Them bullets pierce through brains

They finna make it poor

Why this n*gga crying bout going broke

He should've save some more

He shouldn’t of spent the bag

Back in days id crack a phein on veins

Come get a zip of glass

n*ggas acting they made

They still didn't last

$200 steak she love my way

She see I'm getting cash

Dom Perignon and champagne

She tryna get a glass

Or you can Cristal it

And I can teach you how to fly

Guess I'm a real pilot

I think lil girlie read my mind

Guess she a real psychic

She took it off then look me in my eyes

I wanna see you ride it

I wanna see you fighting

I wanna see you smile

Ain't nothing like them other n*ggas

Who wanna see you down

She ain't nothing like them other b*tches

Who wanna see me frown

Imagine seeing hands out

Everytime you look around




(Aye I know that is not my n*gga Havic over there follie
I ain't see yo ass in bout 3 years n*gga, Jr said waddup
Man I'm trippin)

Yeah

He can't sleep he got them demons with him

Fell down to my knees

I done had a dream I seen my n*gga

And sh*t ain't sweet he gotta keep a pistol

n*ggas fall a victim to the streets

And end up dead or prison

They end up fed or missing

My pops was in the feds

My momma blessed our kitchen

Can't be tryna kill the youth

We gotta bless our children

Cause if we dont the trauma start hitting

You live wrong the karma start hitting

And 95% will end up falling victim