[Che Noir]Uh...Right? Look..Fuck slaving for a low wageI'd rather blow my brains, I need another way to get my dope straightA drug dealer was my soul mateRoad to riches, flippin' birds, I always knew he had road rageI don't care if these hoes hateThe day I let you bitches get to me, Satan goin' feel a cold dayI gotta give God the most praiseAnd my nigga do too, I won't date a nigga who don't prayOnly broke bitches throw shadeI'm a snake charmer, use the money as a flute to expose snakesMy killers on you tryna locateI they ain't wearing baggy clothes, just turtlenecks and gold chainsAll my murders is a cold caseAll my niggas making moves is like a episode of Soul TrainI treat the music like the dope gamePharmacy to fiends, before they get it? They gotta pay me the co-paysI'ma give them the old shadeBefore a bitch cross me, she better look both waysWasn't overnight, I got it at a slow paceI just got on every single beat and I told painDid it ten toes, that's two feet on the groundMy food for thought is like a cooked meal from deep in the southThe living room was like a bedroom, had to sleep on the couchOpportunities knocking, I give it keys to the houseAll I needed was a solid plug, huh, so I gotta keep a cordAin't no friendly competition nigga, all I see is warThe Caesar of this rap shit, I gotta keep a swordGot your favorite rapper blood, on this coliseum floors (huh)God first, and I believe in a crossMost niggas'll have it all, but let greed be their fallTook a shopping spree, I've paid the cost to bein' a bossCheck the bag, and talk was the cheapest thing that I bought, nigga
