Critical Thinking

Lyrics

[Intro] (PBell) (Euphoric, this you?) [Verse 1: Jdot Breezy] E for effort, either go hard or go home I'm mad as hell right now and I'm off fuckin' X, gone Get game from elders, you respect 'em, you gon' live long But everything ain't factual, so, nigga, don't get led wrong Let's talk about it, I been geekin' so much, I can't sleep We take catnaps, sleep for the dead, and, bitch, I ain't deceased Like what's defeat? You got a purpose, either with us or you up for eats Bitch, it's purposeful and purposely impersonal, you fuck with me They came for me once, it turnеd out bad, let's bring them guns out Done been a problеm, up block pressure, make you bring them funds out I run with killers who don't stop hittin' until it run out He 'bout his issue, typin' on Twitter, we chalk your son out I ain't tryna talk with niggas, A-N-T-I Social what I am, my head low, but keep my eyes wide Ears always open, slippers count, I won't be that guy Who fall victim to that pistol, nigga, so I keep mine Straight out that North, but buried my heart on the Eastside We deploy the issue, my niggas gon' let that heat fly Got one chance, pussy nigga, ain't no three times Think twice before you roll them dice 'cause it's no rewind [Chorus: Jdot Breezy] Tell 'em bring it on then, I just mix the pain with meds Voices in my head, the talk is critical, I'm on edge Like fuck it, I might tell my niggas get you, better not show your hand For any nigga try play on my mental, we gon' blow his ass Stolies got too hot, so we in rentals, never show the tag Get up close on niggas, talkin' so close like it's shoulder tag Come through truckin' shit with micro, hit opps with no shoulder pads Might call my nigga Steeze, we caught your mans and then we stole his ass [Verse 2: Lil Poppa] If he catch the biggest half of me, I'ma promote his ass Them boys done wasted so many racks on me, I already know they mad Whenever I'm in the city, I'm out East, come and spend your last I can't seem to get my mind off Leeke, he was livin' fast Bro just copped the SRT, so please don't make him hit the gas That's a half Glock, hit every block, bitch come through shootin' fast Come in first, 'cause if you two, you last I'ma get you worst like I oughta do you bad Why he always rap about how he on Percs? 'Cause I can afford the habit Even though I'm on the third floor, I hear the door tappin' Paranoia, I can't trust a soul, I think my bros at me Another opp bitch in my DM, they send their hoes at me Them old niggas tryna act like they ain't fans, but at my shows rappin' [Chorus: Jdot Breezy] Tell 'em bring it on then, I just mix the pain with meds Voices in my head, the talk is critical, I'm on edge Like fuck it, I might tell my niggas get you, better not show your hand For any nigga try play on my mental, we gon' blow his ass Stolies got too hot, so we in rentals, never show the tag Get up close on niggas, talkin' so close like it's shoulder tag Come through truckin' shit with micro, hit opps with no shoulder pads Might call my nigga Steeze, we caught your mans and then we stole his ass