rule$

Drake Gunn made the keys, what Ah, Drake, light em up D double e yungy Don't wanna speak to no pussy, bitch, I put my phone on DND I don't wanna be your friend, just stay the f*ck away from me Might text your bitch from the stress, say your a lot be on my plate Spend the day with your ass, at night she put that pussy in my face Okay, rule number one, always clutch on your gun If you don't, it won't be no more fun Rule number seven, f*ck a hood bitch with a rubber If you don't, then you'll find your stupid ass up in heaven Then it's rule number two, you can't judge the way I live In my shoes you've never been, dead bodies you ain't seen Rule number four, if there's a knock, get the door Don't go check the peephole, tell the bitch to get the door I'm so focused on that money, ATD, I'm stayin' reppin If it ain't about the cash, then lil nigga we ain't beefin And get a leash for your bitch, cause she wildin' in the streets Ask Teekay bout this shit, one nearly fucked, the whole clique I spoke my mind off the meds, till she said I treat her bad I forgot bout what I said, but for sure I was speaking facts I should probably say their names, if your bitch was in a trap It was hippity-hap-hap, she got a taste of the gang Got a taste of the gang, yeah, yeah Niggas make these hoe-ass bitches, they girlfriends And when, when them bitches, uh, let me not even speak, yeah But get a leash for your bitch, yeah Okay, rule number one, always clap, show your gun If you don't, it won't be no more fun Rule number seven, f*ck a hood bitch with a rubber If you don't, then you'll find your stupid ass up in heaven Then it's rule number two, you can't judge the way I live In my shoes, you've never been, dead bodies you ain't seen Rule number four, if there's a knock at the door Don't go check the people, tell the bitch to give the door Still, I'm dealing with some pain, I can't cry about that shit But a man can drop a tear, though on life he shouldn't quit Just don't play him like a pussy, he might leave you a melon split F*ck, I'm talking bout myself, it ain't a problem, get your hit But I'm keeping to myself, lot of learning that I need Am I woke, am I free, too deep in them streets At times, I sit and think, what if I choose to smoke on that meth, where would deeYungy be To god I send my prayers for my safety every day And for those who got my back, not to have me phony ways I love my niggas like my brothers, they mamas like my mama We share the same struggle, so we got it out the gutter Okay, rule number one, always clutch on your gun If you don't, it won't be no more fun Rule number seven, f*ck a hood bitch with a rubber If you don't, then you'll find your stupid ass up in heaven Then it's rule number two, you can't judge the way I live In my shoes, you've never been, dead bodies who ain't seen Rule number four, if there's a knock, get the door Don't go check the people, tell the bitch to get the door