(African Indigo)
Tryna stay out of the streets
You know how it be
A Nigga been caught in the mix
Mama been tripping and shit
We'll meet by the gate
You cannot come into the crib
Stay with my brothers
And clique where I go
It's like they're attached to my hip
On stage and camera alone
But behind the scenes
We wylin'
We geekin'
It's lit
Toke on a blunt
And then make a hit
Shout out my young Nigga Cori
He's not with the stories
I'm thinking that's why it's a fit
If you touch him
It get gory
I'm not with stories
I'm actually throwing a fit
And If I lose it then you worry
My brothers are scrapping
And gripping the steel with the hip
Ahh
Yeah
You want beef
You get hit with a lick
I'll be somewhere stu
Up in the booth
They ask me I'm not gonna snitch
You're only on top as tempt
You're just a hoe
And your label's your pimp
Your homie smashing
Your girl you're a simp
I am not mad at guy
It is what it is
Just Adapt or Die
If man was not meant to fly
Then why was I born obsessed with sky
When did I get this high
Shit I just figured I'd catch a vibe
Now I look at my texting like
How did I say that
I'm asking why
Meanwhile my friendships
Are actually dying
How am I supposed
To keep that inside
Or pacify
Or try to hide
To try be cool
In name of pride
That shit is lame
Push that aside
Ey
I'd rather voice my side
Ey
I got the source inside
That's why the sauce
Be like Induce an endorphin type
(Stuart Taylor)
We in the mix
**** it I flex on your bitch
We in the mix
Codeine when I burp
Condeine when I sip yeah
Look at this shit
Look at the state of my whip
We in the mix
Look at the state of my bitch yeah
We in the mix
**** it I flex on your bitch
We in the mix
Codeine when I burp
Condeine when I sip
Look at this shxt
State of my whip
We in the