I Think I’m Big Syke

Lyrics

[Intro] My (My) Brother (Brother) Dizz (Dizz) Made This (This) [Chorus] So much trouble in the world, nigga Can't nobody feel your pain So I put my pain in a song, nigga Every lyric's Novocaine I'm grindin' every night so the money come fast The love is never real, so the women don't last I'm riding old school with my Vans on the gas I'm getting too old for this pistol in this stash All eyes on a G, I think I'm Big Syke All eyes on a G, I think I'm Thug Life All eyes on a G, I think I'm Big Syke All eyes on a G, I think I'm Thug Life All eyes on a G, I think I'm Big Syke All eyes on a G, I think I'm Thug Life All eyes on a G, I think I'm Big Syke All eyes on a G, I think I'm Thug Life All eyes on a G [Verse] Smokin' cigars in the cold rain Then I take a shower in my gold chain My new memories remedy my old pain I put my spirit on the tracks, call it soul train Hoes blowin' on my sack,s call it Coltrane I'm going hockey with the raps, that's a cold game My dark-skinned chick a rider in some gold frames My ex-chick is much lighter, that's my old flame These record labels gave me huge amount of checks Then try to play me like I ain't used to cruise around with TECs Pad numbers so when you try to recoup, you drown in debt They put a crown on your head then a noose around your neck Yeah, I know the science, that's why I just show defiance Always standin' up, bringin' the smoke like a old appliance You a fan of what? Junkie ass rappers with no alliance? I been watchin' rappers on Elah Before the Giants 'stead of mannin' up Cornrows, I would adorn those Mama sewin' my torn clothes You would've worn those too if you was poor, trash wardrobes How the god managed to still smell the roses? Only the Lord knows Nah, this ain't a shot at my professional friends But how the fuck you make a list with a questionable pen? (Huh?) Homie, I mastered the funk and I'm flexin' again It's like I fucked a Roman chick 'cause my ex is a ten Could've had sex with her friend but my karma's on point Plus you earn a return when you investin' in sin My record'll spin, my perspective connect to your chin Break everything in between your neck and your shin Homie It's the sea, nigga, what up? (What up?) All you top-tier lyricist talkin' 'bout how ill you are If you ain't droppin' every week, shut up (Shut up) 'Cause I don't wanna hear that fuck shit Your fans are delusional too I'll abuse you and I don't care what kind of music you do (Nah) Oh, you a D-Boy? Yeah, we used to transport that You a backpacker? We choke you with your JanSport strap This the kinda rap that come from seven children in the shack Illegal thoughts in the front of your mind, prison in the back Wasn't witness protection but was livin' with the rats Cereal for dinner, house smell like cinnamon and crack (Ow, ow) I used to think my mama was a cheapskate Fed us bologna, thought it was a cheesesteak Now I'm in Fatburger with the black burner that'll push your shit back further than a Jay Electronica release date (Dizz) It's rap murda [Chorus] So much trouble in the world, nigga Can't nobody feel your pain (They don't understand the pain) So I put my pain in a song, nigga (Word) Every lyric's Novocaine (Novocaine) I'm grindin' every night so the money come fast (Fast) The love is never real so the women don't last (Never last) I'm ridin' old school with my Vans on the gas (Skrtt) I'm gettin' too old for this pistol in this stash All eyes on a G, I think I'm Big Syke All eyes on a G, I think I'm Thug Life All eyes on a G, I think I'm Big Syke All eyes on a G, I think I'm Thug Life All eyes on a G, I think I'm Big Syke All eyes on a G, I think I'm Thug Life All eyes on a G, I think I'm Big Syke All eyes on a G, I think I'm Thug Life All eyes on a G [Outro] Yo, rest in peace to the imperial serial killer, Big Syke See y'all next week