G Spittah - Jealousy (feat. Big Flock) Lyrics

I don't give a f*ck what they talking bout, I'm on my paper chasing route
He a walking liq and he flexing too, heard the stashed it in the house
Bro hit my phone so we hit a liq, man I thought it was a drought
Heard 12 on us, so we in the trenches his mans bout to run his mouth
Bro be toting on that smith and Wesson
Niggas praying that we get arrested
All these other niggas hating on my come up man i really hope that ya'll get the message
Don't trust niggas, don't trust these suckas
Eyes blown red like we smoking fungus
Feds DA they all up on us
Kick a bitch out like my name is Lawrence (Martin Lawrence)
All my niggas ready waiting itching for that paper
Catch a nigga lacking hit him no Oakland Raiders
If twelve stay up on me amma hit that Kunta Kinte
Screaming F*ck the other side Nigga no comprende
Pull up on a kid Freddie with the rugger
That's a scary site hit a nigga like I'm Kruger
Call my nigga Warren we go'n pull up like an uber
Catch a nigga lacking, in traffic state trouper
Got a choppa for you niggas who supporting ops
We don't f*ck with ya'll niggas, we don't f*ck with ops
Twelve tried to hold the real, had him in the box
Had my niggas in the cell, had them in em locks
These niggas jealous what my brothers told me, so i'm back to balling like my name Ginobili
If you f*cking owe me amma stick you homie
And it ain't a case if you ain't even saw me

Big Flock nigga, G Spittah nigga wassup nigga
It's glocka glocka and G Spittah, niggas know i'm a G nigga
If you talking glocks we got three with us, and i'm riding round with three killers
And they chasing paper they not chasing puss, and if they chasing pussy better not over look
My dawg tot A K he's tryna comic book, my shooter thirteen but he ain't a rook
Say you like to beef, watchu know about em, fully automatics how we go about em
Them hundred rounds will bring a hoe up out em, and them five five six knock his shoulder off em
My hittah alias they don't know about em, if he try to play with me he gon' blow about em
Glock in my coat don't let me bring four o about em, you say you spinning bitch but i do not know about em

Chasing this doe till am outta gas
Road to the riches hope that I don't crash
Niggas dying young think I will pass
Looking into time like an hour glass
Always on my grind never going broke
Haters want him gone like he pop smoke
It's jealous jealousy
But I still got those who love me eternally
Man on these streets you dunno who your enemy
There ain't no loyalty it's just the treachery
But I still got all my faith in my family
I got some brothers who'd ride till the death of me
I dunno why they will hate on a nigga
I just be grinding and minding my business
I ain't got time to be hating on a nigga
Dragging me down cause I've gotten way bigger
Bare-chested like I'm bulletproof
Can test me lie detector am the truth
If you a hater I don't f*ck with you
Break your f*cking neck is what I'd rather do
Been patient and waited, the pace is on me
Been used to the hatred, then faced all my grief
I make the first move, you look anxious to see
In other words I guess the wait is on me