[Intro]

Huh

On god

Yeah

[Verse]

Jump out the car and walk a nigga down

I'll kill you for a half a pound

Shoot your block spin back around

Jump out the car then pat 'em down

I really played the backfield

Don't care about a rap deal

Drug problems on my block, Papi trying to handle that still

My plug playin' funny games, he bet' not play no money games

This .45 like a arrow, shoot this bitch like it's The Hunger Games

The drac' make 'em do the running man

I used to fall asleep with hunger pangs

Stopped selling dope didn't all that change

I really put up for my gang

The city treat me like a Villain

Bitch bet' not play cause I'll kill 'em

Fay seen me walk niggas down

Pull it out while im walking through the crowd

I let it off that bitch go fah, fah-fah-fah

I can fuck up auntie blender, she say: "Papi, you that nigga"

These niggas know my body different

I'm on that shit I'm prolly trippin'

Ain't nun but Carti's for the vision

Nigga I'll rob you with your sister

I really don't give a damn

This a Glock, it won't jam

They tryna do it for the gram, I'm gon' do it with the grams

I'm Patrick Ewing with the slam

They called me Rambo in the can

I cut your face up with a can and pass the drain off to my man

I'm too sticky with this shit, Ion try to be mixy with these niggas

I sold dope and shot niggas, I'm a real block nigga

I act just like my pops nigga, my wrist inside the pot nigga

He got a Glock, my Glock bigger, I let off shots way quicker

I don't fuck with you niggas, what you wanna do nigga

Cause when the last opp tried, got shot five times

Dumbass damn near died, stupid ass paralyzed

We stand on business 'bout the guys

These niggas fake they act like props

Jump out the car and get my man, broad daylight we open fire

They talking crazy on the live, don't even know he finna die

They like: "Pap just make songs"

I get you killed, my paper long

I'm really tryna be a rapper, but I can't kick it with these rappers

I fuck around and rob a rapper, then go sell the product after

Im a no good dirty bastard

In the streets I got my masters

I don't got fake dope stories, I don't got fake drill stories

I got them real deal stories, them "Pap, you gotta chill" stories

Going out like I'm Marlo

Run my block like I'm Marlo

Get you shot like I'm Marlo

Serve straight drop like I'm Marlo

I robbed the spot like I'm Marlo

These niggas act like Proposition Joe

Soon as he act like he want [?]

Reach for my hip, don't gotta find the pole

[Outro: Excerpt from "The Wire"]

Proposition Joe: My nephew

Boy was always a disappointment

But I treated you like a son

Marlo Stanfield: I wasn't made to play the son

Proposition Joe: But my supply - the good dope?

Marlo Stanfield: The Greeks, they cool with it

Proposition Joe: Proposition, then

I just step out the way

You never hear from me again

I just disappear

Marlo Stanfield: Joe, you'd be up into mischief in no time

Truth is, you wouldn't be able to change up any more than me

Close your eyes

It won't hurt none

There, now

Joe, relax

Breathe easy