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Hell or High Water
Ransom
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Lyrics
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Look how we made it, nigga
Amazing liquor mixed with Asian dinners
Famous spitters, 'member
The losers always gon' blame the winners
Heinous sinners
Workin' for nothin' made you bitter, look
The boss'll never pay you enough to be his neighbor, nigga
Same agenda
That brother soft, what's his name and gender?
Lame and tender, insane offender, injure your main contenders
Scared for nothin'
Some niggas really never shared nothin'
Here, cousin, bags on the scale, just hit the tare button
Tears comin', heard niggas heads on the tiers button
Tear somethin', buck fifty a nigga
That's air-to-air cuttin'
Air somethin', shoot up the venue, got all your peers duckin'
Fear nothin', bitch-ass niggas got all these queers blushin'
I smell your fear throughout the hemisphere
I pillage your village, save all the women and children
Make sure no men are spared
That stench is weird, them bullets sent you there
We all live in this hell, so don't you get the shit twisted
'Cause we got central air (Whoo!)
Everybody's depressed in need of some mental care
But never been in prison when someone you love sent you there (Facts)
Yeah, God bless the brave stranger
Displayed anger, buried you six feet, and you still engraved danger
My hood a max prison with crack pitchin'
And the gat spittin'
Whole family livin' off of black women
This a fact, you smack fishin'
I sit back, relax, twistin'
If it ain't a V-12, my niggas laugh at that engine
Used to microwave an eighth, but now I like to play it safe
My lordy eat with a razor like he writin' on your face
Prayin', sheddin' tears, my mama's heaven near
Old flicks of the clique, and them niggas never there
Flee and Ran tappin' this, he fam, have to win
We the grand champions in a van packed with gyms
All the sketch tourin', pull up in the best foreign
With a childhood friend that's dodgin' all the fed warrants
Lord, my fleet, I'm enjoyin' the worst
I blow the sour in the sky for all my lords in the dirt
Yo, I blow a sour in the air for all my lords in the dirt
I put my plight in the pen, jotted on the page, then I made paper
Used to pump poison in the projects, sellin' death to nature
Now all my projects poison, streets done got his name up
Still it's fuck the police, Trump in the legislature
Still live by the code, I listen and no talkin' lessons major
Not signed to majors, this all independent
Still in cahoots with wild youths that's
Out tryna rob your ring and pendant
Want it all now 'cause in the streets, it ain't no pension
More concerned with the Cash App than a fuckin' Twitter mention
Got a thing for semi-automatic gats with clip extensions
This is razorblade rap, spittin' with a vengeance
My life behind these bars, care less how you judge the sentence
Blowin' weed to the sky, that's a thug's repentance
Blood on the hundreds and dubs that I stuff in my denim
Artistic, dumb, smart
God-gifted from jump-start
Y'all missed it
Ask old dog with the young heart
Still a menace too indefensed to feel offended
If I ever had to offer my hand, you will attend it
If so, the foot soldier helped the regiment grow
With no handouts, earned the slot the veterans owe
A New York minute, you only get a second to blow
We on different time, direct 'em to the heavens below
His fear of losin' is greater than the excitement of winnin'
Vices is bingin', spent his whole life in his prison
No room to brag, who's his dad? I can assist him
Or you can spank him, pick poison, wise is religion
Huh, yeah, I won't talk to you how your bitches did
But I only respect a man who made initiatives
It won't get out of hand if it did
'Cause my shooters don't dance and they don't be into kids
Yo, ayo, kiss the don feet
Send him to kill 'em, who said to talk shit?
You short-minded niggas make music to get me long sleep
I wrote this on my off week, yo
I sell work but stayin' sharp 'cause in
Silence, I'm spittin' shit to my heartbeat
Cough language, through these corners where shit be dangerous
At twenty-five years old, and bodies make niggas famous
The industry too lame, fuck who you group with
You thirsty group pig, male groupies
I should give y'all a group name, huh
It's Makk here, I directed 'em not to cut it
The Craven X three-in-one shit, the shooters love it
Fuck it, I got purposeful goals
So from the fiends, I must stash what I make
And do it under your nose
Hit your mustache with it, blood drenchin' his clothes
You got fears of being you, I ain't livin' with those
Too many frauds flash cash but they never make it last
'Cause they girl with they closet havin' more in it than they stash
Stupid
It's real stupid, man
Fuck outta here