(KJ, let the beat knock)
(Sky Diddy)
When I ain’t takin’ these drugs, I get nauseous (nauseous)
Thinkin’ ’bout my dawg gone, I get more sick (throwed off)
I be needin’ love, but I won’t force it (nah)
I prefer Wock’ over red, I got choices (choices)
I’ve been like this all my life, guess this shit in my genes (DNA)
I’ve been thinkin’ ’bout my life, gotta get off them beans (why?)
Too much Fentanyl in the street, they puttin’ they cut on pills (chill)
I lost Shanayna to that shit, it still don’t feel real
Standin’ over her, shakin’ my head, wipin’ Damiyah tears (uh)
She takin’ it the hardest, reminscin’, thirteen years (hurt)
Taivo been through this, I had to ask him, “How you heal?”
Ain’t no amount of money gon’ change the way I feel (ever)
This a nightmare, I’m just trapped inside it (inside)
Mama jump up out the bed, every time she hear a siren (hope it ain’t me)
No 2-1-9-4’s and 5-2-3’s (what else you need?)
That little pink pill put me at top speed (go)
When I ain’t takin’ these drugs, I get nauseous (nauseous)
Thinkin’ ’bout my dawg gone, I get more sick (throwed off)
I be needin’ love, but I won’t force it (nah)
I prefer Wock’ over red, I got choices (choices)
Don’t know what you is to your city, but I run mine (mine)
Know where you at, watch where you step, don’t cross the gun line (don’t do that)
I like hittin’ her from behind, she say, “It’s all mine” (uh)
But I can’t lay up with you, boo, you know it’s crunch time (go)
Spaced out, lookin’ out the window, I just start cryin’ (why?)
Tryna figure you out who gave that drop on when my dawg died (my cuz)
Wrote that in red, I told him, “Make sure pressure get applied” (now)
Every picture I got with you, I can’t archive (we got ’em)
I get deep off in my feelings and I can’t hide it (man)
Let ’em talk, sit back, be quiet, I never regret my silence (shh)
I want them to feel how I feel, so I resort to violence (spin)
No, I can’t wife her, if the bitch come with high mileage (ran through)
When I ain’t takin’ these drugs, I get nauseous (nauseous)
Thinkin’ ’bout my dawg gone, I get more sick (throwed off)
I be needin’ love, but I won’t force it (nah)
I prefer Wock’ over red, I got choices (choices)
When I ain’t takin’ these drugs, I get nauseous (nauseous)
Thinkin’ ’bout my dawg gone, I get more sick (throwed off)
I be needin’ love, but I won’t force it (nah)
I prefer Wock’ over red, I got choices (dealin’ with my problems a lil’ different)
These last eight to ten months
Is the real reason why shit been goin’ how it’s goin’
For example, me still tryna be a superstar artist
Me tryin’ to please my fans and put music out to the world
But at the same time dealin’ with real situations
Endurin’ real pain
I’m talkin’ ’bout back to back, back to back, back to back
One year changed my whole life forever
I lost my kids, mama, I had to take them in
What man you know doin’ that, for real?
At the peak of his career, at that
Then on top of that, I lose my brother to the streets
Shit, he had kids, so now it’s like his kids like mine
Whenever they call, whenever they need somethin’ I come through
Most of the time, when you dealin’ with pain
You try to cope with it by running to drank, weed, pills, all that
That’s ‘posed to be medicine
But the whole time it’s making me more sick, for real
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