First String - Hit-Boy

Most of the realest niggas live through real pain, that shit true

This ain’t a scrimmage, this the real game

This fake shit get cut, no scissors

They tryna tell me to pipe down, nigga

Shit is hard to explain, I can feel the evil eye behind the shades

Makin' major plays, nigga, I been up for days

I need that pie in the sky and I can’t wait

Give 'em a piece of my soul with every take (Hit-Boy)

Uh, might be the verse to seal my fate

Fuck waitin' 'til my wake to tell a nigga I’m great

Liquor spillin' as I skate, movin' like I work weight, livin' everything I say

Lessons on lessons, blessings on blessings, shit, I guess it’s a message

And everything big bands, no wedding ring

I don’t play rap shit, catch me sliding to Teddy P

I can’t play a second fiddle, nigga

First string type nigga, Chauncey, but not Billups

Can’t go out sad, a gangster is who they named me after

Should take up tithes on you niggas, go 'head, pay the pastor

Can’t repaint the past hook, y’all slept on the last one

Damn, slept on the last one

Don’t hate the player, hate this cold game

Can’t go out sad, a gangster is who they named me after

Don’t hate the player, hate this cold game

Can’t go out sad, a gangster is who they named me after

A good name is better than a good face

That’s what some would say, took all that I could take

One’s loss is another man’s gain

One toss could be the end of the game, nigga, practice on your aim

Two wrongs don’t make a right, two mil’ll get you right

Seen both at close sight, success and failure

Drug paraphernalia, two grams of the Skywalker

Bangin' the first Carter, niggas’ll try to off you

We high on the meter, my nigga

They mean muggin' when they see the two seater, my nigga

A fifth lawyer on the case, that’ll change your face

Smile through it all, that’s amazing grace

Uh, R.I.P.

to Aretha

Rest in peace my nigga Nip

Free the real ones, free the real ones, yeah