Bmg queezy - Pain (10 toes) Lyrics

I don't worry, I tell you, I'm a man who believed that I died 20 years ago
And I live like a man who is dead already
I have no fear whatsoever of anybody or anything
Uh, I got pain in my heart, hope it don't rip me apart
Treat my trust like some knives, shit sharper than thoughts
Been prayin' to Jesus Christ, but he don't listen too much
I was born in poverty, I was hoppin' the bus
Have you ever robbed and steal cause you was down on your luck
Remember sellin' to my granny cause I needed a buck
Even my momma turned her back when I was broke as a f*ck
Daddy never answers the phone when I was callin' him up
Is it this hatred? Nah, nah, I'm callin' ya bluff
Because you got your face tatted, you think that's makin' you tough
Well, I got a heart of a lion, you run away like a buck
They mean it like men in black, I got the strap in my tux
I'm movin' swiftly with it, keep my finger on the trigger
In case you movin' different
See crab mom goin' wet, she call it goin' swimmin
I do it for my sobriety, that's why I'm movin' timid
I'm in hell, but I'm God's gift, but they never listen
Close my eyes, I can still see the trap house kitchen
And I ain't kiddin, remember I was down, nigga
But I came bigger, they woke me up from the dead
Now I'm the grave digger, these bitches givin' me head
Now like I'm Hilfiger, I was always on my ten toes
Since a lil' nigga, f*ckin' bitches in the bando
Since a lil' nigga, wasn't impressed by a damn soul
Since a lil' nigga, you can ask anybody
I'm the f*ckin' truth, nigga
I put one up in the air now, like a field kicker
I was always on my ten toes
Since a lil' nigga, f*ckin' bitches in the bando
Since a lil' nigga, you can ask anybody
I'm the f*ckin' truth, nigga
In the middle of the summertime, touchin' like Busta Rhymes
You gon' get a three-piece, eat you like a number nine
I'm shootin' till the laws arrive, come on, though, don't act surprised
Saw him with my jewels on, he said that it wasn't mine
I'ma catch him slippin' now, I'm growin, I'm actin' different now
Money on blue, I swear to God, a nigga crippin' now
Eighty-four degrees on my BS, got it pimpin' now
Remember I was broke, but now it's money in the kitchen now
Money in the sofa, I got bread like a toaster
Summertime, 07, bottle eight was even colder
Ran driftin' school, hidin' bullets in my folder
If you say your life's a mystery, then I guess I'm the decoder
In the middle of the summertime, cold like Minnesota
I got flavors in this bitch, you can tell just by the odor
It's either you tryin' to rap, or you workin' on your floater
Society got us stuck, you got used to bein' a workaholic
Motivatin' success, they motivatin' these jokers
While the rich keep gettin' rich, the broke is just gettin' broker
But never quit, my nigga, keep dustin' dirt off your shoulders
Keep on bein' limitless, some of you a soldier, yeah
Cornmeal
Brock Legion