Remedy lyrics

[Intro]
Aye, Aye, Aye
Aye, Aye
(Fatt), Fatt
We gon’ Spin
Li’ Marc, that my twin
Fatt, Aye

[Verse 1]
Li’ Marc, that my twin
We gon’ spin (Spin)
sh*t for real, out here in these streets, if you ain’t like that don’t pretend
I get locked, i call up my Momma, when we drill, i call up ken (Ken)
High as f*ck, it’s hard for me too stand, but I’m still on all ten (Ten)
Step on sh*t like Crash Dacky, we done dirty the Air Ratchet
We done got the drop, he movin’ out, we sendin’ n*ggas packin’
Tell the truth, up in the booth b*tch, you a rat, and I’m a rack, how that happened?
If i catch ‘em, I’m gon’ stretch ‘em, word to tali
I had zaza, in my front door, with the weed mask up in cali
Bro was strapped up, in my first show, even though ain’t nothin’ happen
I got no opps, left
Every time, a n*gga play, we step
Call the guys, couldn’t get no one to ride, I’m slidin’ by myself
Never mind, I’ll get lil’ bro to drive, while i shoot like Stephen
Smoke like, I’m a chimney, ‘fore a broken heart, the pills and weed, it been my remedy
I been in, a lot of different b*tches, my life listerien
I know i got money, but this sh*t don’t put my mind on ‘E
Yeah, standin’ in the rain, i could never hate the f*ckin’ playa, sh*t, i love the game
I can’t even sit, and lie like all this motion, ain’t just change me
I might switch to R&B, she call my parents, when I’m singin’, uh
Yea, ridin’ around the city, armed and dangerous, i shoot first and ask her f*ckin’ questions right after i spank her
You could rock that f*ckin’ vest, but you can’t bulletproof your brain
Tryna walk in Johnny Dang, and drop a 100 on my chain, and my teeth
You was somewhere, doing you, where i was, real as i could be
Put a switch up on that, choppa, i ain’t gonna let my momma gred
b*tch, I’m a star, you know not to have no panites on, when you get in my car
She say, she a fan i let her hit the weed, i take that b*tch to mars
They wonder how I’m keepin’ it goin’
f*cked a opp b*tch ‘till the mornin’, put a muscle in my groin
We can’t bring them f*ckin’ choppas, in this b*tch then we ain’t goin’
Know I’m really, from the trenches mixed, Ralph Lauren