Don't Be Nervous

Look where I made it to, with the same niggas I started with
Double-S-O just a quote but they know we a gang and they want be a part of it
Another city in another state
Another pay on another stage
Swear that these raps like a book 'bout my life that I’m writing and each song
another page
I guess my mixtape like a novel huh
Chose to lead and a few chose to follow up
On stage with my squad, fuck an entourage
We don’t need no security follow us
And we smoke heavy dope, put them bottles up
Came in here with some bitches, no models but
They the baddest and fuck with the realest youngin
Won’t see me on a song if I feel they bluffin'
His name buzz on the street, I ain’t heard it youngin
Not a lick, not a move, I ain’t heard of nothing
Niggas taking these ranks but ain’t showing nothing
Youngin’s lost, they ain’t learn about earning nothing
Out in the streets it’s two type of niggas
Ones who show love when they see potential
Take you to the stu, toss you instrumentals
Put that word in your ear like, «son you an issue»
Then it’s niggas who see your potential
Would only reach out when that shit been official
But them type of niggas same niggas who diss you
Or sorry ass suckers, don’t feel sentimental
Just kill 'em myself, play they part with my own smarts
Fuck them niggas, this my own art
Give a fuck where they from, got my own start
Give a fuck who you with, got my own heart
And I don’t know what they told y’all
Got a 40 stuffed in my coat dog
If you walk down, don’t approach wrong
If you look wrong I might blow dog, so look
I done came up on a lot of money
I done ran down on a lot of dummies
They want take my shit but ain’t got it from me
They hatin' for what, man you gotta love me
Woah, look, I used to flex, but now my arms hurt
Look, your bitch stop sucking, I guess her jaws hurt
Look, a nigga keep hatin', I guess his pockets hurt
Hating don’t make you no paper, so why be a hater?
Don’t know how his wallet work
Fuck the talk, show the profit first
Fuck a friend, where that cash at?
Fuck a job, where my mask at?
Fuck a tweet and a hashtag
We just whoop your ass and look past that
120, I dash that
If it costs racks, I’ma cash that
Your bitch on my dick, I’ma smash that
And these verses, I’ma crush that
Boy I shoot fast, I don’t bust back
Mama said get a job and give up rap
But my fans and myself, we like fuck that
In the field tryna score, fuck a touchback
Get a gun, if you don’t better rush back
My bitch told me I’m smoking too much pack
But my thoughts be too loud, gotta hush that
Bitches think I ain’t shit and they all wrong
I ain’t saying I’m sweet, this the wrong song
Hit that pussy, I stay if it’s choice
If she tryna force some relations I’m long gone
Cause I’m in the streets from sun to night
I’m just tryna eat, get my money right
I ain’t changing my ways for not none of y’all
Not unless that shit gon' change my mama’s life
Cause my mama deserve it
I swear my mama deserve it
I’m back in the booth
Now these niggas look nervous