Lyrics
Time to let the truth be told, it ain’t no brighter days
Cause when it all unfolds, a nigga gon just pass away
These haters, trying to stop my grind
But I bet them hoes, can’t block my shine
So tired of taking losses, not this time
I can’t save the whole world, I’m just trying to look out for mine
I been getting a lot of exposure lately, on niggas songs and in they videos
Cause they know I’m a O.G., not an original gangsta but an organized general
They see me pulling up in my 300 banging, gators on my feet and jewelry dangling
Everybody love the way I look on the outside, but inside I be paining
Is it ever gonna stop raining, nothing but thunderstorm clouds hover above me
Shit I use to break my back to make sure my niggas was straight,
but they still don’t love me
That’s why it’s no more pain on my lower arm, and one deep tatted on my other
arm
If you see me looking in y’all direction, I’m not about to speak fin to do you
motherfuckers harm
Got seventeen albums and they all selling, so tell me why the fuck my pockets
ain’t swelling
Ain’t never did nothing to nobody, that didn’t have it coming to 'em bitch I’m
a felon
Feel like I was failing God tell me when I’m gon win, you know when I’m blessed
you know when I’m gon sin
You were there at the beginning of my days, I’m just hoping I see you after all
my days end
And I don’t give a damn what these people say, half the people in the church
got evil ways
I was just looking to make a lil' scrilla, but it turned a lil' Christian into
a lil' killer
From label to label and gun to rifle, it’s a forward march ain’t no time to
retreat
If you able to save a nation go 'head, but I’m struggling to get myself
some’ing to eat
No more struggling, backwards hustling this is my year
I been in the game since 9−5, bitch I’m still here
I hear that background that side talk, that cheek bumping
If you don’t like who I signed (Swishahouse), then give me some’ing
Just six months ago, they said the Don was all over
But I just tightened my flow built the buzz, and came colder
I touch them street G’s, them go-getters and crack stars
You six feet deep or somewhere asleep, behind them iron bars
Cause I done knocked off plenty cars, and knocked off plenty hoes
Then pulled up plenty shows, candy paint and glass 4's
Look at 'em whispering, like some hoes on the sideline
They second string and cheerleading, while I’m getting mine
I know I been down, can’t wait till the next round
Tomorrow’s tomorrow, but today nigga it’s right now
It’s Ke and Ro, and fa sho that’s a gangsta hit
Get up out our life ho, get up off our dick trick