Exposed lyrics

[Intro]
My homie turned snitch, I heard he ratting (I heard he ratting)
Please don't let me catch that boy in traffic (Please don't let me)
4, 5, 6, head cracker (Head cracker)
Real trap sh*t, get tragic (Tra-tra-tra)
My homie turned snitch, I heard he ratting (I heard he ratting)
Please don't let me catch that boy in traffic (Oh no)
4, 5, 6, head cracker (Yeah, yeah)
Real trap sh*t, get tragic (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah)
Aw man (Aw sh*t)
You know you done f*cked up right (Breaking now, huh?)
Let's get straight into it, look

[Verse]
n*ggas b*tch up and start telling (And start telling)
We was straight finessin' all them tellers (Fax, fax, fax)
I remember trapping in Margielas (Trappin')
I promise you there was nothing you could tell us (Nah, nah)
He biting the cheese, he snitching (He a f*cking rat)
I remember riding with the smithing (Gang, gang)
Louboutins, n*gga, I'm a Christian (On God)
I even got caught up with the kitchen (Yeah)
Huh, damn, like what a time
I was better off in the block getting off them dimes (Westside)
n*ggas being a preacher and writing statements and dropping dimes
Ain't a crazy how n*ggas be CI's the whole time (n*ggas f*ckin' cops)
n*ggas be your bros, who would've thought (Who would've thought)
Cops behind me, I'mma put that sh*t in sport (Skrrt, skrrt)
When you was f*cked up, I was holding down the fort (Yeah)
I should've known better when I ain't see you in court, damn
Got me sitting there thinking like what the f*ck (What the f*ck?)
n*ggas be scared, go to church and get you a gun (Yeah)
And I know if sh*t went left, you the type of n*gga to run (Type of n*gga to run)
We was hopping on the flights, taking trips, that was just for fun
I was most wanted on the island, that's a fact (That's a fact)
n*ggas want my head, want me dead, they want me on my back (Want me on my back)
I told my mama don't worry 'cause I ain't going out like that (Nah, ma)
I remember going broke, hitting 'em licks to get it back (Yeah)
I was fiending for a buck and I was fiending for a band (Really though)
I ain't really give a f*ck and I ain't really give a damn (I ain't really give a damn)
We was hopping out them trucks and we was spinning in them vans (Yeah)
And it's still free all the real n*ggas that's still locked up in the gym (Yeah, yeah, yeah, gang)
Thought you had my back you ain't have nothing (Huh, huh)
Thought you were a real one, should've known that you was bluffin' (I should've known better)
Got it out the mud, turn nothing into something (Yeah)
When sh*t get real, these n*ggas softer than a muffin (Fax)
[Outro]
You n*ggas softer than a muffin
f*cking muffin ass n*ggas
I'm back and I'm better
On the gang