I said this murder game ain't funny

Whiping blood off your money

All to buy foams

Im just that sneaker hungry

Sike foams are dead

Got the aqua 8s in my head

Not those fruity foams

My mother wears rainbow shit like that to bed

But then they ask me, why are the bills red?

Ask the nigga i whacked instead

There ain't no recession on the succession of the murder or rap game

You gotta make your name and rhymes worth international fame

But you still claim

That all rap is the same

We all got our own taste

But i feel like a metaphorical squirrel returning to base

Im talking about the rap game

This must be a turtle race

Ii said my bills are red

But my blood is still blue

Im not sugar coating nothing

My rhymes are staying true

Seeing niggas holding guns

With their blood on my shoe

I still got trust issues

After that night

When I had to see my brother die because of a knife

Because a stupid little queer didn't have a good year

So he ruined my life

Even though he was an asshole

That fate wasn't right

So you need to learn not to trust

Cuz when you do you quickly run out of luck

Don't judge me because i miss my brother

I'm not gonna pretend I don't give a fuck

But when I spit these meaningful words, you'll never catch me stuck

I'm not sharing my past anymore

That's enough

I won't get snuffed but I still won't show up

Cuz pulling a Glock is the only way these fuckboys feel tough