You got my back I got your back
You bust your strap I bust my strap
Your enemy my enemy
They say we focus bitches
Must be kidding me That's what they bitches be telling me
My niggas got my back and they're not selling me
* this felony * this DA
* this judge They're not selling me
Free my nigga Marky Fucker
They need to let T.J.
go And free the gang bitch
He get home you know he gon' be on some ape *
Throw them live for you TM rocking for you
Put them signs for you Run them down for you
Brazil this is for you Vicar Rachel too
My gradient edge is a thing I
got my niggas cause I know they ain't got
me You feel me?
Don't worry Don't worry
Don't worry T.J.
You know I ride for my motherfucking niggas
And if I die then my niggas better kill them
Don't worry about mine I'ma grind till I get it
And if he outta line I put one through his fitte
I done spent a lot of time with extra gram in the kitchen
Breaking zits and dimes outside on a mission
I don't got time for these talking ass bitches
My son mama callin' so I'm headed to the riches
You know I lied to these motherfucking bitches
Cause they need the money motherfucking business If
I knock a nigga down they ain't leaving no witness
Cause they ain't doing time for no snitches I
been acting like a jail made girl no snitching
We get high together,
lie together,
ride together,
slide together,
go down together,
start a world
This mixtape may cause rubber bands to bump,
paper to stack,
guns to bust,
and fans to rain
It should only be listened to in the fast lane,
with the windows up, blowin' perc, so fire up