Outro

And this how the end should sound Right Let me talk to 'em Uh I remember I was just a young nigga Funny I'm the man now Ice cream truck hit my block I'm at my pops with my hand out Sitting 'round thinking, "When's it my time to stand out?" Path wasn't perfect but at least we had it planned out Old heads gave me game I soaked up like ShamWow Now a nigga hot so when I'm near you got to fan out Fans in Japan I sit back like, "Man, wow!" This is only streams just imagine when I land How they gon' act 7 years old seen a man down Shots fired, police at my door like, "You hear a sound?" Look nigga, I fear failure, I don't fear clowns And crooked cops that'll shoot a nigga with his hands down I can't tell you what I've seen in my lifetime That's why I use this pain to vent when I write rhymes Karma-Kazie bitch I'm fly like I fight crimes Stone cold killer, Scarface off them white lines Searching for freedom like Dufresne in them pipelines Having to maneuver through the shit storm Grindin' for the day both my whip and my chick foreign Tops come off, yeah they both like to strip for him My niggas worse than Reggie Miller when he gets goin' 'Cause their aim's like a 3-point specialist Shooting like we suffering a 3-point deficit Slaughterhouse butchers Got beef? Then they dead in it You ever have roaches in your cabinet? Or ants in your cereal? No school clothes? In class with no materials? Bought a new amp but niggas jacked you for your stereo? Scraping up change for catfish on Imperial? I'm just a victim of a single-parent household Was told if you ain't speaking no money then keep your mouth closed If niggas starting something you better give them an outro Always watch your back for the Judas's and the Alpo's Smoking out door but you smell it all through the house though When you trap a rat you chase it back to the mouse hole A bunch of bad bitches, you'll probably catch me around those Blue-faced hundreds, I swear that I love to count those Rain, sleet or snow I'm a get to a bag The realest ones getting money know you ain't gotta brag See it's better to humble word to Kendrick Lamar You want privacy then nigga put some tints on your car Whether you lighting up blunts or buying drinks at the bar Don't let the money and the fame make yo forget who you are Back in school I learned class wasn't like being truant See it's more about the principle and less 'bout the student It's more about the loyalty that you show to the family And less about what you say the you winning a Grammy So just remember when you make it out the hood evidently Don't let the ones that shitted on your bucket ride in your Bentley And that's it We gon' ride out DomoKazie Hope y'all enjoyed it To be continued It's good music for your soul