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Freddie Gibbs - Bandana Album Lyrics



Freddie Gibbs - Bandana Lyrics






Obrigado

What

What, wh-why you, wh-why you on, what, man, I need a bed, man

Haha



Obrigado

Now presenting

My niggas Madlib and Freddie Gibbs

It's time for Bandana, bitch

So turn your speakers up

Let us go, bitch
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Frederick Tipton, Otis Jackson
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management






Freestyle Shit

Warning
The surgeon general has determined (Mmh, yeah)
That the sounds you are about to hear
Will always be devastating (I want it all, nigga, all of it)
To your ear
Sleep well
Kane season
Drink some of this champagne
(I love Madlib, he makes me much joy)
I want it all, nigga, all of it
(My favorite, my nigga Madlib, obrigado)
Yeah, yeah

I want it all, nigga, all leather
25th and Jackson, I'm back in action like Carl Weathers, uh
Tryna beat the Rocky like Carl Weathers
Trap boy Kane, I club a lame, Sylvester
Crack cocaine, I was my own investor
"Could I do this shit independent? That was my only question, uh
Usher Raymond IV, Confessions
Ferra let me come through and hit when I was alone and stressin'
Yeah, 'cause when this music shit wasn't movin', man
I said I might as well be movin' thangs, uh
Uh, Joey let him shelf it
But I still put out my f*ckin' debut record, for the record
Where I move when I'm with these hoes is off the record, for the record
For the social media shit I was livin' reckless
And these rap niggas share the same hoes
Gotta curve bitches, gotta cut bitches, gotta change hoes
I was reminiscin' in the Range Rove
Me and my little brother shared the same clothes, nigga, yeah
That's when this music shit wasn't movin', man
I said I might as well be movin' thangs
'Cause when this music wasn't movin', man
And I was barely even movin' thangs, uh
Said I was moving with them shooters, man
Before I barely even knew the game
East Side, Gary, nigga, I got it tatted
Virginia Street, f*ck the niggas that ratted, my nigga, uh
Don't wan' hit the trap if I don't gotta
My weed habit so close to snorting powder
Niggas don't holler 'less I got narcotics
Scratchin' and itchin', he on that dog collar
Trunk full of tapes, I ain't got no dollars
By the time niggas show you love, you don't even want it
By the time niggas show me love, I ain't even need it
By the time niggas showed me love, I was on the TV, yeah
That's when this music started movin', man
But I still proceed to move them thangs, uh
Said I was moving with them shooters, man
Gang bangin' and recruitin', man, uh

Yeah
Movin', man
F*ck it, keep it, I'm done
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Frederick Tipton, Otis Jackson
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management






Half Manne Half Cocaine

Yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah
Niggas will never learn
Yeah
There's some niggas that never learn
Yeah
Niggas that never learn

Bridges burn, tables turn
F*ck niggas, they will never learn (Never learn)
Not about an almighty dollar, it ain't my concern (Ain't my concern)
Heard you're gettin' pussy too, outside of me, ain't my concern (That ain't my concern)
I just want head in a 458, that's what I deserve

Nigga, I deserve
Big old house and two thick bitches makin' grits
Leather seats in the new candy-painted whip
Bitch, I came out the womb on some gangster shit
Ho, I knew you was off, you could take a lick
Set him up with my bitch, we can fake a lick
I just broke up a brick on the East with the clique
Who you bangin' with? You know that me and Diego be takin' shit

Bridges burn, tables turn, f*ck niggas never learn (Never learn)
Chicken dinner, watchin' SportsCenter when I whip a bird (Whip a bird)
Heard you're gettin' pussy too, outside of me ain't my concern (My concern)
I just want head in a 458, that's what I deserve

Nigga, I deserve
Big old house and two thick bitches bangin' out
They go pussy to pussy and mouth to mouth
We don't need 'em, we beat 'em and pipe 'em out
Snitch, you feed 'em and treat 'em and wife 'em out
At the plate, but that pussy, you strikin' out
Met the bitch that's defeating your bank account
I just turned my mom house to a powder house
Got that bitch powdered out

Bridges burn, tables turn, f*ck niggas never learn (Never learn)
Chicken dinner, watchin' SportsCenter when I whip a bird (Whip a bird)
Bitch, I know who did the murder, that ain't none of your concern (Your concern)
I just want head in a 458, that's what I deserve (I deserve)

Shut the f*ck up
Yeah, half man, half cocaine (Cocaine)
I just mixed the Tylenol with heroin (Heroin)
Junkies shoot some detergent in their f*ckin' veins (F*ckin' veins)
Cradle to the grave, nigga, crime pays
F*ck with Mister K, put your face on one of them picture chains
Sugar Ray the fade or go John Wick with the pistol game
Bitch ain't crack the safe, got his moms hit with the pistol whip
Move like the Yakuza said drip, we clipping off fingertips
Bitch, crack numbin' up my fingertips
Pullin' strings with my pinkie rings, rapid get you hit
I make fifteen jump like trampoline when that package sent
Now niggas want them methamphetamines, quick to suckin' dick
Suck a dick, for the dope up I was rushin' shit
F*ck the needle, she just supposed to sniff, Snuffleupagus
I get strippers on my f*ckin' list, f*ck a bucket list
Black brains up in buckets, bitch, Michael Douglas, bitch
Half man, half cocaine (Yeah)
Sixty pounds of Walter White, the White Plains (That Walter White)
VVS the Prezi, Skydweller plain
Sit your five dollar ass down before I make change (I make change, nigga)
Pay for your funeral, get your shit arranged
Kiss your wife and say, "You were solid," then go piss on your grave
Hold that, lock the doggy up with Similac
F*ck rap, blood movin' ounces on the Cash App, blatt
Half man, half cocaine
I just hit a bank and did the David Blaine
One foot in the booth, one in the f*ckin' cage
If I wrote my raps, you'd be a slave to my f*ckin' page
Freddie Kane

Half man, half cocaine
Half man, half cocaine
Half man, half cocaine
Brought to a neighborhood near you
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Denzie Beagle, Frank Dukes, Frederick Tipton, Otis Jackson, Wilbert Williams, Winston Riley
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Royalty Network, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC






Crime Pays

Yeah, yeah (It's a wave)
Crime pays, crime pays (Yeah)
Yeah, yeah

Crime pays, nigga, crime pays
Choppin' up this change with cocaine in my microwave
Made it through my whole month with my lights out, I seen brighter days
Watch this shit get me high, boy, you live and you die by this game
Homeboy just caught HIV, he lived and he died by his ho
Have we ever hit the same bitch before? Ain't nobody know
Have we ever hit the same bitch before? Wasn't nobody business
Niggas be f*ckin' these hoes and say, "F*ck insurance and doctor visits"

Fly like the wind, it's time to begin your life
(Say, "F*ck insurance and doctor visits")
You've got control to start again and do it right
Look to the sky and you will feel how to live a life that's real
(That's real)
To the perfect harmony, when the spirit is free
(Yeah, yeah)

Crime pays, nigga, crime pays
Choppin' up this change with cocaine in my microwave
Diamonds in my chain, yeah, I slang but I'm still a slave
Twisted in the system, just a number listed on the page
Made it through my whole month with my lights out, I seen brighter days
Watch this shit get me high, boy, you live and you die by this game
Bitch, don't touch my body
'Cause I put your body all off in a bodyslam
You ain't gon' hurt nobody
Go body for body but we the body gang
The ho that you brought out to Cali
But she only f*ckin' with you 'cause you f*ckin' with Kane
Thought she was boostin' her credit
With niggas like you that just ain't got enough on their name
Thought I would front you another one
Niggas like you that just ain't got enough on the books
Talkin' that shit in the booth but when niggas come shoot at you
You couldn't do nothin' but look
My niggas done bust a four nickel on your nigga
Bust him, now he on a shit bag
His homie done borrowed a car and he got it shot up
Now I know that his bitch mad
He steadily called up my phone and you huffin' and puffin'
'Cause they at your bitch, duckin'
And Rocky done went and bought Jeezy a pair of new shoes
That nigga was dick-suckin', yeah

(Dick suckin'-ass nigga)
Fly like the wind, it's time to begin your life
(That nigga was dick suckin')
You've got control to start again and do it right
Look to the sky and you will feel how to live a life that's real
To the perfect harmony, when the spirit is free

Crime pays, nigga, crime pays
Yeah, crime pays, nigga, crime pays
Crime pays, nigga, crime pays
We champion people
This station rules the nation with version
Huh!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Frederick Tipton
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC






Massage Seats

Yeah, bitch say what's up, I said, uh
Nigga, flip a brick
Bitch ask me what's up, I said, uh
Pimp a bitch
Diamonds in the woodgrain wheel, nigga
Nigga, Kane

Golden State the roster, my garage deep
Floating in the foreign on massage seats
Yeah, keep, keep designer on a broad feet
I been water whippin' Earl Simmons, all my dawgs eat
44 Bulldog, all my dawgs bite
Flexin' AMG, pushin' redline through the red light
Spot a pussy boy with a red dot, bust a headshot
They got us in the scope, all this bread talk really fed talk
Yeah, nigga, f*ck it, get your money on
Still takin' calls on this money phone
Every Sunday morning, I hit Maurice with the MoneyGram
He was major league, I'm pitchin' softball, underhand
These niggas don't understand
This ain't for soccer mamas, this for the underground
Niggas was the shit last summer and now they numbers down
Rappers gettin' decked for they jewels, I keep that tool with me
I go Makaveli on Hugh's brothers, bitch, who the menace?

Yeah, Kane, nigga
And I was hittin' bitches, I'm talkin' 'bout
I was hittin' R&B bitches
When a nigga was broke and shit, you know what I'm sayin', nigga?
You know what I'm sayin'?
Platinum bitches, you know what I mean?
Bitches on the charts, you feel me? Yeah
You know what I mean, not just really big bitches tryna get on, you know what I'm sayin'?
Yeah, Kane Season

Yeah, nigga, f*ck it, get your money on
Still takin' calls on this money phone (Yo, what up?)
Every Sunday morning, Keshia hit me with the MoneyGram
Touchdown in the Chi and make that pussy do the money dance
I should have a tux on in this bitch, me and money make holy matrimony
Shot caller, put them shooters on you like D'Antoni
Top dollar, lock me up and I make the bond, no
Big baller, father, you my son like Lonzo (Bitch)
Entertainer with a lot of trap contacts
We pushin' packs 'cause in this rap, it ain't no max contract
With fifty on a nigga head, that's a trap contract
And catch him with a car full and push they whole shit back
Seats in the 600, push they whole shit back
I flip a flow and do a show and get the whole clique racks, bitch
Whippin' Earl Simmons, all my dawgs eat
Golden State the roster, my garage deep
Floating in the foreign on massage seats

Yeah, see, you gotta see, nigga, you know, you gotta understand (Yeah)
I'm from Gary, niggas ain't used to no, no foreign cars, you know what I'm sayin'? (F*ck nigga)
Like, I remember when
When that nigga Ced came through with the
C, C230 or some shit, C or E class, some shit
I'm like "Nigga? Get out that motherf*ckin' auntie Benz, nigga"
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Frederick Tipton, Otis Jackson
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management






Fake Names

Uh
Yeah
Yeah yeah
Mic check check check
Uh, yeah, yeah, uh
Survival of the fittest, my nigga
Check, check, check
I need a check, check, check
Bitch, uh, yeah, uh

Shit's so real, gotta use fake names
Every time I sleep, dead faces, they occupy my brain (My brain)
Erica said I never changed (Never changed)
Lifestyles of the insane

You was like a brother to me, no other to me
Swear I would trade my life for yours, I knew you was f*cking with me
Found out some niggas f*cked your wife and we put them bitches to sleep
Ain't going to say your government, I'ma call him by Ricky G
Now Ricky G, he had a cousin named Yella with bricks of yola
Had a Mexican that came 'cross the border to Arizona
They was getting shit for seventeen
Tossin' shit to me for twenty-eight
Bitch go for thirty-one, I barely ate
Seen them niggas frown when I started breaking that shit down
Said I need more time with them chickens, I'm out here making rounds
Jealous niggas want they twenty-eight up front now
I bought all the damn clientele, we could have ran the town
But f*ck it, you cut the price, then I fly to Phoenix
Said if you ain't copping like twenty, then, cocksucker, beat it
They put Yella Boy on the evening news
Devil on my shoulder said, "F*ck friends 'cause cash rules"

Shit's so real, gotta use fake names
Every time I sleep, dead faces, they occupy my brain, uh
Christina said I never changed (Never changed)
Lifestyles of the insane

I done walked through hell in these size 12's
Speak it from my own mouth before I let the time tell
Dream team legal, I never take an L
Courtroom, funeral fresh, Givenchy my lapel
Pouring up, foreigned up, three bricks, I'm a hundred up
Jack a pussy, blow his pack, that's how you f*ck the summer up
F*ck it up, bottled up, your hoes f*ck for followers
Finessers, carries, tiger lilies, bitch, I'm super modeled up
Well pimp that
My hoes twist it fat, she roll ten Backwoods out the zip, yeah
Pasadena, Reno, came to Vegas, it was lit, yeah
Crystal Lynn came all the way to Denver for the dick, yeah
Had to cancel my Miami trip, that bitch was sick, yeah
Put me on, always put me on
Then labor sixteen hours, need to put me on
Drop a zone, dope ain't locking up, this shit done took too long
Shout out to BO and Charlie Mack, man, bring them niggas home
Most my dawgs got life in jail from conversations on the phone
I bought my first mansion, told my mama leave that dope alone, forget that
Used to get ten bricks Dominicano off the lip, yeah
Put that on my nephew Luciano, we the shit, yeah (Luci)
Bitch, I put your pussy in the mail, I need to see it, yeah
Abby used to follow me on tour, that shit was lit, yeah
Put me on, Freddie, put me on (She was like)
Put me on, Otis, put me on

I used to love that bitch though
Yeah, Kane
Yeah, yeah, remain
Yeah, yeah, put me on, put me on
Put me on, Amber, put me on
Put me on, Nina, put me on, uh, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah

Hahaha, hello
All my niggas, man, they ready
It is time once again for the two motherf*ckers
Madlib the Beat Konducta, straight from California
So light the motherf*cking weed up bitch
Turn the sound up, let us go
And as usual, no f*ck boys
Real niggas only
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Frederick Tipton, Leon Sylvers, Otis Jackson
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Flat Tummy Tea

Uh, I beat the pot like Joseph beat Mike and Jermaine
One came out light, one came out dark but they smokin' the same
I break a 50 on blunts and give my smoker the change
That nigga flexin', VVS every stone in the chain
Gold body, my jeweler, he black mummy me
I be all in these bitches' stomach like flat tummy tea
Crackers came to Africa, ravaged, raffled, and rummaged me
America was the name of they f*ckin' company
Stackin' niggas like cargo over and under me
Pick cotton bails and the coca leaf off the money tree
Niggas won't let you live in peace but love to see you rest in peace
Broke and poppin' and drinkin' on the rest, they got the best of me
I'm choppin' it up on the table, 'cause there wasn't no label gon' invest in me
These niggas'll ride your wave and wouldn't go sit that time in the fed with me
Eventually, when I got indicted I took a minus
Niggas that I f*cked with went on hiatus so I decided
I should make a couple decisions like Shyne made
I'm feedin' Jhené Aiko-lookin' hoes in the Sprinter thing
(They f*ckin' with the Kane)
Black nigga, jack tripper, pack flipper
Step out the kitchen and step in the booth and drop heat on these rap niggas
Without a cosign, you probably be fillin' my grocery bag, nigga
Poison flow, I send the police from riches to rags, nigga
(Gangsta Kane)

Gold body, my jeweler, he black mummy me
I be all in these bitches' stomach like flat tummy tea
Crackers came to Africa, ravaged, raffled, and rummaged me
America was the name of they f*ckin' company
Gold body, my jeweler, he black mummy me
I be all in these bitches' stomach like flat tummy tea
Crackers come to Africa, ravaged, raffled, and rummaged me
America was the name of they f*ckin' company (Kane)

Uh, chain give me whiplash, my neck glass
Shave a lil tax off the package, pay my connect fast
Bellagio with cuatro hoes, stack like Connect 4s
Niggas don't own no land or fine art but got all the retros
Obama can't make the law retroactive, what the f*ck happened?
Congress cock-blockin' niggas from comin' home to they family
If you lucky, when he left out of office
You got a pardon, overtime cut
Soft or that hard, you f*cked up regardless, made my mind up
Then incarceration my destination, I would wind up
Addicted to medication, just poured another line up
Overdosed with a styrofoam cup, how they gon' find us?
Slave movies every year, yeah, the master gon' remind us
If we don't take it, we don't deserve it back (yeah)
And six-thousand years done ran up, the kings of the earth is back
(Earth is back)
Supreme mathematics, I'm on the right course (yeah)
Took the sword and knocked white Jesus off of that white horse
(Yeah)
My nigga, I'm on the right course (for sure)
Took the sword and knocked white Jesus off of that white horse
F*ck Spike, he mostly show Malcolm on coke and white whores
Did the shit so he can get fundin' up from them white boys
White girl magic, cocaine, the white whores (yeah)
I was in Joliet serving heroin to them white boys (yeah)
Top five rapper alive and that's on Vice Lord
Took the sword and knocked white Jesus off of that white horse

Damn, somebody callin' me, f*ck
Damn, I hate when people do that
Let me put my phone on airplane mode, let me do that over
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Frederick Tipton
Copyright: Lyrics © Peermusic Publishing






Situations

Yeah, yeah

Representer
Street niggas, I'm a representer
East Gary, I'm a representer
Rest in peace, granny, I'ma represent her
Made it through the summer with no air conditioner
Catch a shudder 'round the kitchen in the winter
Just a youngin thuggin', tryna check a million
Youngin thuggin', tryna check a million
Windows tinted with the killer in my system
More than weed and liquor in my system
Got the brand new whip, might see the solar system
On my seventh figure, niggas know the feelin'
Necklace flooded, it's a situation (Yeah)
All my bitches got a situation (Yeah)
County lockup or the police station (Yeah)
We was in some shitty situations (Uh)

'Bout to smoke it up, pour it up
I'm a thug and smokin' lethal warrior
Copped a brick of yay West Side of Florida
Spent a hundred-twenty on a Rover truck
I had bitches when a nigga rode the bus
'Fore the money, bitches never noticed you
Way back when, they wouldn't do a show with us
Now they callin' me so they can open up
I put you niggas on game
Put some respect on my name
Freddie Kane a livin' legend
I hit a stain
Cousin took two to the brain
Bullets missed me, it's a blessing
I can see the day like it was yesterday, I'll never forget it
So rest in peace, good Lord, you was caught in the system
I made my lane up in this game, and upped the winning percentage
So f*ck a record deal, a nigga need a bigger percentage
I'm like

Haha
Label cut my check, nigga (Brrt, brrt, brrt, nigga)
Yeah

Representer
Insane, I'm a representer
VN, I'm a representer
I'm a 20-2-12 representer
What you know 'bout stuffin' kilos in the engine?
You a sidewalk nigga, street ain't in you
'Bout to stretch this coca like the seventh inning
Young and thuggin', tryna check a million
Windows tinted with the killer in my system
More than weed and liquor in my system
Got the brand new whip, might see the solar system
On my seventh figure, niggas know the feelin'
Necklace flooded, it's a situation
All my bitches got a situation
County lockup or the police station
We was in some shitty situations

1989, I seen a nigga bleed
Uncle stabbed him in the neck and hit his knees
Turned the arcade to a stampede
I was playin' Pac-Man, Centipede
Put me on some shit I never should've seen
Robbin', killin', drug dealin' in my genes
I was livin' in Atlanta, juggin' bean
Dre'll hit a nigga with the Billie Jean
Josh The Goon got a nigga back to flowin'
Bought the plane ticket, first I wasn't open
From that moment I was West Coastin'
Livin' out of city apartments, smokin' all the roaches
Straight survivin' off of Wendy's, Pollo Loco
Forty thirty, man, I'm 'posed to serve the smokers
Did my re-up la famila with my cholo
Twenty for the chicken, that's some pollo loco (Yeah, yeah)
Obama got elected today, and I got arrested
LA County literally strippin' a nigga naked
And I never tell on none of my enemies or connection
Motherf*ck Jeff Sessions, I'm sellin' dope with a weapon
Only union some of me and my niggas got is the Western
I'm they favorite rapper when niggas f*cked up and they stressin'
Lot of niggas feel like I got my bucks up and I left 'em
Tell them pussy niggas come get the f*ck up on my level, yeah
This how it feel to wake up and you don't owe nobody shit
Not an explanation, not no conversation, Drug Administration, suck a nigga dick
When my daddy ran over Eddie with that motorcycle, he ain't been that nigga since
Seen him transform to crackhead, "If I got twenty, Fred, can I get a hit?"
Nigga, damn

F*ck You Friday was such a great holiday
That I thought I would extend the holiday season
And let's call it I Don't Give A Shit Saturday
I don't give a shit about what you think about me
I don't give a shit about who you think I ought to be
I don't give a shit about, you don't like me cussin'?
I don't give a shit what you like
I'm doing what is best for me
I'm doing those things that makes me happy
Those things that I think are positive with me
And that's what you need to say to anyone today who comes into your life
Tryna bring negative shit into your life
Tell 'em, "I don't give a shit"
In fact, tell them, "If you not feedin' me, financing me, or f*ckin' me, I just don't give a shit"
In fact, go out on this holiday
Get you some ribs, put it the grill
And let's call it F*ck-A-Que
Let's have a F*ck-A-Que holiday
And not give a shit about what people have to say about you and your life
This is your morning message from the cussing pastor
Have a great day
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Frederick Tipton, Otis Jackson
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management






Giannis

Uh turnt up like Tony jugging the speaker phone
F*ck Sosa bitch I got soldiers and I put my people on
2009 a bitch food stamps what I was eating on
Got 4 inch quarters, dimes, 9 pieces on my Nokia phone, squad
Diamonds make haters stay on a job
Keep a baby .380 with me like Khalid stay with Asahd
Bump that poison Poppy seed Afghani shit from the mob
You's a cartoon that flip on the cover of Lucky Charms
Every morning I wake up with my daughter, Dora Explorer
Then I get right back to the pot, kitchen stankin' that's potty training
Murder note go to the muhf*ckin' plaintiff at my arraignment
Keep the debt oppressed that's on green paper, f*ck being famous nigga

Ice will come with the flame
Flowers cover the grave
Power, love and loyalty
Watch me clean today

Industry got you sleep but bitch I'm woke I know the devil
These niggas be falling off everyday like Ace Hood Rollie bezel
Niggas don't understand that 360 mean a percentage of every income stream
That record ain't doin' no numbers, you trip on your management and your legal team
I done been dropped before, talked about and wrote off before
Heart on my sleeve and the ATF at my momma's door
This mongol told me Freddie, fix up your posture bro
Walk tall and never show niggas more than they gotta know
Real G's move in silence like Giannis
My Greek freak we did a menage with a friend in St. Thomas
For 50 Carats in my pendant to change up the climate
We paint all the whips to cocaine white, decorate the garages

Ice will come with the flame
Flowers cover the grave
Power, love and loyalty
Watch me clean today

Kane all in the blood, shots to the brain
Snow on the bluff, calls for a truce, but truce came with snubs
Bodies hit the pavement, money came for months
Kane paid the bills, penthouse'd the sweet
Sugar on the hill, some will get free but most will get killed
I'm just doing me and me I'm doing still, I wasn't done
Started with a nickel in my Tommy socks
Smoking blacks and getting sips of papa's Remi Martin
Boosted polo out of Macy's in the Jansport
Mama would have gotten me anything I asked for
In the city where they iffy on supporting niggas
Moved to LA started selling pounds of cauliflower
Same niggas that I grew up sharing shoes with
Turn it into a multi-million dollar movement

Ice will come with the flame
Flowers cover the grave
Power, love and loyalty
Watch me clean today

Kane all in the blood, shots to the brain
Snow on the bluff, calls for a truce, but truce came with snubs
Bodies hit the pavement, money came for months
Kane paid the bills, penthouse'd the sweet
Sugar on the hill, some will get free but most will get killed
I'm just doing me and me I'm doing still

Ice will come with the flame
Flowers cover the grave
Power, love and loyalty
Watch me clean today
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alfred James Ellis, Brandon Paak Anderson, Fredrick Jamel Tipton, James Brown, Majrooh Sultanpuri, Otis Lee Jackson, S. D. Burman
Copyright: Lyrics © Royalty Network, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Practice

Yeah
I had it all
This one, that one
I thought it was tight, tight new situation
But you know what I mean, I'm fooling myself, you know what I'm saying?

Yeah, yeah, my nigga, I'm what she paid for
She 'bout to get off work at the club, I used to wait for her
F*cking up my whole family structure to clear the day for her
When I was going through problems at home, I should have prayed more
Dear Lord, but I didn't
So I'm tangled in this position
Made a commitment to both of these women and never considering both of they feelings
I got too deep so after I beat I should've just deaded it from the beginning
'Cause I admit that I got a bit jealous when she was at Floyd crib stripping
And that ain't like me, this ain't the right me, but that ain't her fault
She call my phone with all the tough talk, I went the f*ck off
Wasn't seeking another relationship, I just needed to duck off
Got a cool new bitch in the boonies, that pussy, I knock the dust off
When all the trust lost
Sometimes the love is soon to follow
Wifey'll put me out the crib and tell me to come back home tomorrow
When I got caught the f*ck up, she hit me with the ultimatum
You need to come home with your daughter, nothing more important than your baby
Drugs got me crazy

Uh, yeah
You know what I'm sayin', nigga?
Shit's crazy, man
Selling dope, smoking dope, you know what I'm saying, all that
All that shit, being around shit, yeah
Push you to the limit, you know what I mean?
Or you past the limit, you know what I mean?
These streets and these hoes don't love you
You don't feel no love out here, nigga

Get it, like Meech and Slick say, but she no comprende
When I'm chopping shit up like a sensei to get to rent day
My trunk got more blocks than Dikembe
The DEA, they snatched my black ass straight up out of first class flying from Midway (Damn)
One foot in rap, one foot in the trap
But I'm really trapping for my homies, they too incompetent for this balancing act
If they really love me, they'd be keeping me from it, to keep it a hundred
How you complain about the price when you getting everything fronted?
Weed, heroin and 'caine flips was my main bitch
She tried to make me go to counseling but that ain't change shit
Searching for licks up in the streets, they come and go like Pokémon
Don't get no R-E-S-P-E-C-T from my baby mama's mom
Put some respect up on my name like Beatrice, men in a mattress
Fake love, I really don't need it like Allen ain't need the practice
Hell yeah nigga, we talking about practice
How I'm gonna break up with the streets?
I got the questions but I can't find the answers
Delicate circumstances

Yeah
It's gon' be alright though
Have the bitches there, you know what I'm sayin'?
At the end of the day, yeah
Instagram, Snapchat get you locked up
Hard to sit in the city and shit, you know what I'm sayin'?
Niggas and these bitches
Ain't no love in this situation at all, you know what I'm sayin'?
Yeah, uh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Donny Hathaway, Frederick Tipton, Otis Jackson
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






Cataracts

Yeah, check, check, yeah, uh
Chillin' in my, uh, uh
Chillin' in my, chillin' in my, uh
Chillin' in my, chillin' in my, uh
Chillin' in my, chillin' in my, uh

Old school
Chevy thang, Cadillac
Smokin' on that good, good
Good for my cataracts
F*ckin' up this bad food
Fast food, gettin' fat
Nine, extended clip attached
Swingin' it like a battle axe
Livin' la vida broke-a
F*ckin' these smokers up and baggin' crack
Antonio Montana dream
Mama wasn't havin' that
Niggas ain't know no better
We f*ck 'em and pass 'em
We was passin' rats
Bitch, you wet my 'Wood up
Dry my shit off 'fore you pass it back

Bitch, pass it back, pass the Act'
Codeine got me passin' out
Crown mix it with cranberry
Tryna see what that about
'Member we hit that lick and tied up them Crips in that Atlanta house
Had to smoke that nigga that came along with us 'cause he was gon' rat us out
Seem like my actions was devil sin, I can't sympathize
F*ck generation next, this generation genocide
Your social stat make you fantasize about a homicide
To me, the guy that lie is the black man personified
Anticipatin' and killin' my own in search of wealth
Should he come knockin' at the door of your home, you know, for death
Knew the Lord was in the room when my daughter took her first breath
Cold turkey on the dope, had to gain the knowledge of self

In my old school
Chevy thang Cadillac
Good, good
Good for my cataracts
Bad food
Fast food, gettin' fat
Nine, extended clip attached
Swingin' it like a battle axe

I'm chillin' in my old school
Chevy thang, Cadillac
Smokin' on that good, good
Good for my cataracts
F*ckin' up this bad food
Fast food, gettin' fat
Nine, extended clip attached
Swingin' it like a battle axe
Livin' la vida broke-a
F*ckin' these smokers up and baggin' crack
Antonio Montana dream
Mama wasn't havin' that
Niggas ain't know no better
We f*ck 'em and pass 'em
We was passin' rats
Bitch, you wet my 'Wood up
Dry my shit off 'fore you pass it back

Wish I could put that pussy off in my pockets, I would leave with that
Hit my after your cycle, I need that pussy with no string attached
Fiendin' to get it, won't hit it, against my religion, a nigga won't bleed for that
You lucky enough to get you a nigga with morals, you needed to heed to that
Turkey bacon, bitch, like my toast buttered on both sides
Chevy dipped in liquid cocaine, my Casper the Ghost ride
I let some people go from my company and they sold out
I know that they jumpin' straight into Hell, I pray that they nosedive
Mama said don't leave out the house if you ain't got Jesus with you
Last Supper, you might get f*cked by niggas that's eatin' with you
Side bitch was trippin', I f*cked but won't spend the evening with her
My baby mama switched up her diet, I'ma go vegan with her
Father, please deliver us niggas, carnivorous niggas
I walk amongst the dumb, deaf, and blind, and them frivolous niggas
And dope, rap, and basketball punchin' a ticket for niggas
You put it in the book then I guess you done hid it from niggas

I'm chillin' in my old school
Chevy thang, Cadillac
Smokin' on that good, good
Good for my cataracts
F*ckin' up this bad food
Fast food, gettin' fat (New shit)

Mashallah, rest in peace to Tha Jacka
Paradise, the next life, I'll see you in the hereafter
I'm in that ebony Instagram, my nigga was mad I ain't smashin'
Nigga, I don't need you for the feature, really don't f*ck with no rapper
I don't got no problem with these niggas wearin' they dresses and skirts
When you pop up with an opinion and drag your name through the dirt
On the Day of Judgement, niggas gon' pay for they dirt
Including me
Couldn't push my boat through the lake of fire 'cause my paddles was burnt
Uncle was smokin' that work
Can't come in the crib, I serve you through the gate
Smell the dope off in the air
Jimmy Duggan, shake and bake
Used to walk a dog with H
In and out, Empire State
'68 Chevalle, don't need no Bentley truck or f*ckin' Wraith
2014, addicted to lean, I was depressed as f*ck
Duckin' shots and wonderin' if my own niggas set me up
And if they knock me down, I wonder would one of my niggas help me up?
Pockets, they finger-lickin', they honey kettle chicken, breaded up
Bitch, get your bread up, bitch
I say my pockets, they finger-lickin', honey kettle chicken, breaded up, bitch

This that new shit
Madlib, that new shit
Takin' over, new king, woo
Let that shit ride out
You better pray twice, nigga
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Frederick Tipton, Otis Jackson
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management






Gat Damn

Yeah, pour some liquor, yeah, yeah, yeah
Free my niggas, yeah, yeah, yeah
Pour some liquor, yeah, yeah, yeah
(This shit, nigga, for real though), yeah

Man, I miss my nigga Greg, pour some liquor, yeah, yeah
I got homies in the feds, free my niggas, yeah, yeah
I just wrapped a hundred cash, zipped it in the air, yeah
I'ma go f*ck up a bag, know that ho can't stand that
Yeah, I got shooters but I'm duckin' shooters
Pop 'em up, they hit the homie sister, guess we both the loser
Po-po pull me over with a half a kilo and a Ruger
I can't move the same, I gotta readjust how I maneuver

I reminisce that feeling when I think about it
A million in the bank, I used to dream about it
No heat up in the whip, I used to sleep up out it
Up in the morning whippin' cocaina 'bout it, yeah, yeah
I got bags, ho, is you f*ckin' with me? Yeah, yeah
Time to blast, ho, is you f*ckin' with me? Yeah, yeah
Let that yayo dry on the table, droppin' fat slabs
Porsche Spyder look like a spaceship, they like, "Goddamn"

Ah, goddamn, I'm callin' Lam'
MoneyGram, go send the bail, I'm in a jam
In the jail, I'm in the cell, can't see the fam
Say my prayers, alhamdulillah, no bacon ham
Bacon ham, and cold salami, that's all they serve us
Stomach hurtin', the devil working, but I ain't nervous
Beat the verdict, but lost a milli', guess life ain't perfect
Whippin' birdies, the devil working, but I ain't nervous

I reminisce that feeling when I think about it
A million in the bank, I used to dream about it
No heat up in the whip, I used to sleep up out it
I take the pot and whip a Cuban link up out it, yeah, yeah
I got bags, ho, is you f*ckin' with me? Yeah, yeah
We can blast, ho, is you f*ckin' with me? Yeah, yeah
Let that yayo dry on the table, droppin' fat slabs
Porsche Spyder look like a spaceship, they like, "Goddamn"

Yeah, pour some liquor, yeah, yeah, yeah
Free my niggas, yeah, yeah, yeah
Pour some liquor, yeah, yeah, yeah
Free my niggas, yeah, yeah, yeah
See, man, free that nigga, yeah, yeah
Hot dog, uh
Free my nigga, yeah, yeah
I know how it be, man
You know, pent down in that motherf*cker, yeah
I remember I was on, on bail and shit, you know what I'm sayin'?
This, this, damn, the beat ran out
F*ck it, that's enough right there
F*ck it, I ain't even gotta talk no shit
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Frederick Tipton, Otis Jackson
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management






Education

Ooh Maisha T, aaj pehli baar tum ne kaam ki baat ki hai
Education

They go in one way, they come out crazy
Peace preparatory school, emperors and conquerors
Pharaohs and followers
Goblins and monsterers
Stone heart jewels and gold for the fools
The bones of the innocent is buckles on they boots
The jail overcrowded, they emptied out the school
See the devil twitchin', ears itchin' from the truth
Strange fruit, cyanide, soufflé, and soup
It's tasty for a few and murder for the group
A dead-end street with a lemonade stand
Where is the sky in upside down land?
That question is hard if you can't see the stars
I'm really not sure, ask me tomorrow
I may not be here
I'm feelin' like I might just leave before I start a fire or a fight
Or both, but nah, son, I couldn't just chill
Everybody gigglin', that kid was gettin' killed
And I knew when I stood they would turn on me
And I don't need no more trouble with my sleep
So I did what I did and that's what it is
Tell the sheriff and the deputy I don't give a fick
Tell my mama and my kin and all of y'all and them, it's like this
Get free and stay sick
And that's it
An education

Peace parishioners, onlookers, and listeners
Visitors keepin' the consumption conspicuous
Kids graduatin' from public schools and prisoners
Underprivileged, aboriginal, indigenous
Sent images of that family that got adopted
The president of some nonprofits is out of pocket
I heard the world ending is trendin', I tried to watch it
I focused on sinnin' when winnin' was not an option
The system we compete against is farm to table hand
Pickin' them ingredients, civil disobedience
Encyclopedia, definition of greediness
Gluttony, please take heed of who you treaty with
Me, Freddie, Flaco, and Shot never forgot though
That Plymouth Rock landed on top of new Morocco
Couldn't see who was firin' shots, the shooter got low
And left a burnin' cross on the lawn just like a pothole
I may not be here
I'm feelin' like I might just leave before I start a fire or a fight
They sayin the six bands are higher for the flight
So I may be a hitman for hire for the night
If you're figurin' this man's maniacal, you're right
Bar codes on the wristband, it's not an oversight
They intentionally expand, probably to extradite
If you wanna play blind, just look straight into the light
The puppeteers playin' you for spite
And worldwide, what we're payin' is the price
And that's life
An education

Wooden leather buck talk
China white with cut talk
Kane train, a ho could never put me in a Slut Walk
Education, trap-onomics, narcotic plug talk
My hands was right back in the birds soon as they took the 'cuffs off
Gotta feed your f*ckin' wolves or they gon' feed on a nigga
It's quite ironic how all this ice'll keep the heat on a nigga
My cousin beat me for a pack and I put the beam on a nigga
And I don't gotta finesse the plug because I Deebo that nigga
Used to be peace and O's, drop am opp like pop's stinky load
Last Friday hit by the pos, too dope in the commode
Got off the stove and slowed my role, I'm in the mosque now
But I'll still serve you a baked potato Bobby Johnson style
You ain't lit, you litter like Trump Twitter feed
Black mobster shit, I'm more Melvin Willams than Genevieve's
Them fist fights had me swappin' blood with my enemies
You ain't from no set if you wasn't gangbangin' in Little League
I may not be here
I'm feelin' like I might just leave before I start a fire or a fight
A million f*ckin' dollars a year just won't suffice
Got a factor in that more bad habits and the cost of life
Cost of life, uh
We stay so high, that's why we can't come up
My credit score is zero, I'm still pullin' Ranges up
Them cash counters is counteractive
The paper cuts gas by a pump like when Dominque used to lace some up
I changed it up, I pray the streets don't take what's left of me
Drugs for the free, soul sold separately
Education
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Dante Smith, Frederick Tipton, Otis Jackson, R.D. Burman, Tariq Trotter, FREDRICK TIPTON, OTIS LEE JR JACKSON, R D BURMAN
Copyright: Lyrics © THE ROYALTY NETWORK INC., Royalty Network, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC






Soul Right

Smooth, nigga, you know what I'm sayin'?
Too motherf*ckin' smooth, bitch, yeah
Bald head, head like a baby, a baby ass, bitch, yeah
Yeah, Kane
Here to motherf*ckin' remain, yeah
Uh, bitch nigga
It's still f*ck police, too
Yeah, nigga, yeah

Rest in peace Terrence Crutcher, motherf*ck Betty Shelby (F*ck that bitch)
I never wish death but bitch, find a hollow tip and inhale it
When Taz drove off with two kilos, I told him we should mail it
And now we gone up the river, they seen my nigga sellin'
Nigga killed the police in Dallas, that's probably fake news
While they knock 'em off with robotics, R2D2's
Everything on me icy, Snow White, it's just like I skiied through
I sit back in the trap with them rats and I watch the cheese move
Shaki' all these nutso niggas off the roof, off the record
Ball without a motherf*ckin' ball like I was Tommy Sheppard
Life a bachelor party, we with them strippers on O's and X's
I can't hold no grudges, my hands is too busy catching blessings, yeah

Yeah, and I been struggling my whole life, yeah
I pour it up and get my soul right

East side boy, my mama was the mail lady (Yeah)
Brother and my sister got degrees but I got the yayo, baby (Yeah)
Had to beat my case, I can't turn Irie to a jail baby
Bitch, I weigh that shit up in my crib, I think your scale shady
Pass it off and drop it like Stockton, bitch, I facilitate
F*cked some niggas off but I also done set some niggas straight
Way back when we had rows and Lincolns is all a nigga ate
And every day I f*ck up a bulletproof glass chicken plate, uh
Empty stomach, broken heart, and empty pocket
Three things that occur to show you if you and your niggas solid
Know that they won't prosper but the devil still gon' form the weapon
I can't hold no grudges, my hands is too busy catching blessings, yeah (Blessings, blessings)

Yeah, and I been struggling my whole life, yeah
I pour it up and get my soul right, yeah
'Cause I been struggling my whole life, yeah
So I broke it down and it was all white, yeah
Mama always told me it'd be alright, yeah
I still broke it down and it was all white, yeah
I pray the Lord'll get my soul right, yeah
I still pray to Lord'll get my soul right
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Frederick Tipton, Jake Ferguson, Malcolm Catto, Mike Burnham, Otis Jackson
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management








Bandana is the second collaborative studio album by American rapper Freddie Gibbs and record producer Madlib. It was released on June 28, 2019, by ESGN, Keep Cool Records, Madlib Invazion, and RCA Records.

Entirely produced by Madlib, it is the follow-up to their critically acclaimed 2014 album Piñata, and their sixth overall project as a duo. The album features guest appearances from Pusha T, Killer Mike, Anderson .Paak, Yasiin Bey, and Black Thought.
Performed By: Freddie Gibbs
Genre(s): Hip hop, gangsta rap
Producer(s): Madlib
Released: June 28th, 2019
Year: 2019

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