Lyrics
A nigga got problems
Sittin' here, plottin' how to count a million dollars
I need houses and garages
Got baby mama drama, get my mama out them projects
Ain’t got too many options
So I’ma take one, double back and make a profit
I need houses and garages
Got baby mama drama, get my mama out them projects
I gotta get my mama out the projects
So it’s llamas in the projects
A nigga out here starving
This rap better work, I’m playing niggas in that garden
I came from that fridge with empty crates and milk cartons boy
Belly achin', walking with a 9
Should I shoot him down or just rob a nigga blind
Only head shots, never catch him in his spine
That’s what my block taught me, it’s a kill every time
That’s just the mind of a kid trying to free his mom
Out that two bedroom with five kids
Malnourished, ribs touching, man this poverty a bitch
So we slanging dope, ducking pigs, posted with them sticks
Welcome to Ohio, where we hustle to live
So it’s factory work
Or we busting down and breaking if that ain’t gon' work
Then we run in your crib, six smoking like Wiz
One move, bump bump, put two in your wig
Grandma pray for our sins, hoping God forgives
But today is pay day, and all this broke ish gon' end
I swear all this broke ish gon' end
My baby on her last Pamper
And her mama on my last nerve
And I just lost my sneaker gig
So you know it’s back to the curb
My cousin got a brick, said he front me quarter key
Told him, «gimme a week, I’ll be where I need to be»
Now I’m penitentiary chancing on the block with my G’s
Trying to clock G’s to feed my family
And I don’t wanna do it but I’m in a tight squeeze
Left hand full of stones, right hand got a tight squeeze
On this hammer case a nigga try me Cops casing the block trying to lock me It’s hard here, nightmares
‘Cause I don’t want my kids to grow up here
But it feels like a trap, all I do is trap here
Everyday we hopping fences, dipping on twelve
It’s like we running track here
But I gotta get this pack clear
Survival is the key
Big ass crib with garages is the dream
Ba-balancing flows, to balancing triple beams
‘Cause I ain’t never been a problem
But something’s gotta give
‘Cause a nigga got problems
Blue collar, blue, blue collar