Check mine, your rap sheet aint longer than your gun [x4]
Niggas talkin gun shit, and how they run shit And how they done shit, nobody ever done shit Nigga who you burpin for? who you workin for? You a pimp ho? oh, who you twerkin for?
I dont need a bravo for this novel I want this message just to travel over gravel All I want is what I earned, I applied what I learned Live fast, crash, survived in the burn
Laughed when niggas told me that they passed up my turn Since when you bastards concerned? Motherfuckers still hate you if you ash in the urn If you standin on the corner or you pass em on the curb
Fuck em all Im in the mall, you just a toilet in my stall You gotta rock a chain to avoid who you are Pussy in the flesh, gush drippin down your dress Conscience died with the rest, so what the fuck can I confess?
You aint sayin nothin, its just a front Your rap sheet aint longer than your gun [x2]
Check mine, your rap sheet aint longer than your gun [x4]
Check mine, yeah, that check mine Tech 9, respect mine Never quit tryin, told myself Imma do better this time But that time never came round
They tried to stick me up, but I never layed down They tried to hit us up, but dawg laughed at the sign Shot back faster than an aston martin mile Left the ratchet on the ground for the crime
Yall seen me at my lowest, my poorest Now see me win awards for fakin like a poet To who I owe it and for who I wrote it, and they know it For them I praise the lord, damn who took my life and press the forward?
I aint hyped off the hype Or stunned off the lights This shit in my palm now, the size of a bite Yeah I done wrong, but my rhymes only right Motherfucker this the mob and my ties only tight
You aint sayin nothin, its just a front Your rap sheet aint longer than your gun [x2]
Check mine, your rap sheet aint longer than your gun [x4]
You aint sayin nothin, its just a front Your rap sheet aint longer than your gun [x2]
Check mine, your rap sheet aint longer than your gun [x4]