God Forgives, I Don’t lyrics

[Intro]
Ayy, this for them 9th Street hardheads, man (KG made it)
This for every young n*gga out there, man
You hear me?
Put it in they motherf*cking face, n*gga
For real

[Verse 1]
My lil' brother rocking USPA, we wasn't having Nike
Grew up in the gutter, wasn't no structure, it took sacrifices
High speed, ain't have a license (Skrrt)
White folks gon' extradite me
pus*y b*tch ain't never write me
Locked down, I'm letter writin'
Thousand push-ups every night, I hurt them hoes feelings (Feelings)
Waitin' on parole, starin' at a closed ceiling (Ceiling)
Sleepin' on my mama couch, was thinkin' 'bout a million (Million)
Residue on my clothes, sellin' 'bows out a building
Record label just called me, they wanna see me in New York (Yep)
Crippin' like I'm from Cali, I'm pimpin' b*tches like Too Short (Crip)
Posted up the ally, puttin' PCP on my Newports
b*tches, they used to dog me, I'm ballin' like it was two courts
Northside thuggin' like New Orleans in the '90s (Wah)
Grew up on BG, had a BB gun in my diapers
Cellblock 33 when I had to sleep with the lifers
If a n*gga play me, knife him, that sh*t turned me to a tiger (Grr)
Heart barely beating from the betrayals and the stab wounds
Late night with great whites, been posted up since past noon
Gave my dog fifty, ain't see my n*gga since last June
Locked me up at eleven, brought a weapon to my classroom
Ever since a toddler age, I promise it's been turbulence (Turbulence)
Opps said they gon' stop my days, they promise they gon' murder men (Murder)
I ain't with all that dissin', you can miss me with that verbal sh*t
Chopper sticks on a mission, spin his trenches with some urgency (Baow, baow, baow, baow)
[Chorus]
Young n*gga trappin', if you trappin', trap your ass off
Young n*gga jackin', if you jackin', jack your ass off
Free bands in my Guccis, think I'm Future with my mask off
Never gave a f*ck about no music, I'll crash out

[Verse 2]
Throwin' up my section in another n*gga trenches (Trenches)
Rock out with that Glock out, I'm like Popeye on the spinach (Spinach)
b*tch, I'm really from the trenches, don't do it for no image
Outside where they be spinnin'
Glock 9 in my Givenchy (Baow, baow, baow, baow)

[Chorus]
Young n*gga trappin', if you trappin', trap your ass off (Trap)
Young n*gga jackin', if you jackin', jack your ass off (Give it up)
Free bands in my Guccis, think I'm Future with my mask off
Never gave a f*ck about no music, I'll crash out (Quit)

[Outro]
I'll crash out
Ayy, and you n*ggas know where to find me at, n*gga
You hear me?
Right across the creek, n*gga
On my mama, n*gga, Green Stone Pound, n*gga
Yeah, four pistol or no pistols, n*gga
Yeah, n*gga, you n*ggas got a whole football team, n*gga, I'll be one deep
You hear me?
On my mama
Still gon' lay dead in the street behind that sh*t, n*gga
On my mama, n*gga
Yeah
God forgive, I don't
pus*y-ass n*gga