2 Blessed 2 Be Stressed

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Mack Maine] Did you ever think that you'd be this rich? Uh uh Did you ever think that you'd drive these cars? Uh uh Did you ever think them diamonds round your neck would match your flow? Look closely, you'll see there's no flaws, uh uh Did you ever think that there'd be no laws? Uh uh When you got money yeah, you above the law, uh uh Na, nigga, the laws'll try to still come and fuck with you Public enemy number one right here I'm hollaring fuck the police, I ain't gon' duck the police I ain't the type to ever trust the police New Bentley, 550 horse power, that's the [?] Have them pissed off, put up a roadblock Motherfucker, you gon' [?] nigga I know not I't's posed to be a resession, but I just made a hundred K in a day, I guess that I'm blessed with The gift to get the money, ever since an adolescent For the haters, I toat a Smith and Wesson These niggas stressin, but not I [?] I'm a hot guy I got a whip that's the same color of the cool ranch deredos Or a bag of hot fries I'm a real nigga, nigga, I will not lie Yeah I sollomly swear, everywhere my nigga Tune go, it's only right for me to be right there I don't trust you niggas, so I probably be rocking with him and Tez and Streets until I grow white hair Nigga, act like you know me I ball like I'm Kobi Ain't too much shit the OG's didn't show me And shawty, you can tell I got money from my [?] Plus I keep it G like [?] three [?] I can tell you niggas is so nervous I can tell your bitch to come over and just slerp this Half of y'all boys still worthless Your moms looking at you like damn, did I birth this? You know Mack, I'm a beast I represent from uptown all the way to the east Young nigga balling, like Rollins and Spalding [?] the streets, [?] [Chorus: Gudda Gudda & Mack Maine] On the road to riches and diamond rings Real niggas do real things Young Money over bitches, is the song I sing Real niggas do real things On the road to riches and diamond rings Real niggas do real things Young Money over bitches, is the song I sing My nigga, real niggas do real things [Verse 2: Gudda Gudda] I got money in my ocket, and more money to get Nigga, life is all grey, I ain't stressin for shit Getting paid for my thoughts, man, I never thought this Painting pictures with my words like an artist Mack and Gudda, two of the rawest recording artists [?] the hardest shit you ever heard I used to take a [?] with a bird And make her take a greyhound straight to a nigga curd [?] roll with him, [?] back down from no nigga Word to [?] For stress, I used to roll [?] and smoke a duby But now I pop something, and sip drank till I'm woozy Now [?] I slap them on they booty And tell them fuck my niggas, bitch, you better do your duty I can't lie, man, the lord done blessed me Now I'm on jetskies, life is stress free