Bars on I-95 at Rolling J’s

Lyrics

Some people talk it I was living it Fresh home from that 5 year prison bid Mom flew to Pitsburgh rented cars and visited The board gave me the go and I paroled back to Kensington Everybody's somebody's middleman And I been selling blow since I said no to Ritalin The shit is in, her teeth crumble from the glass she got the crystal grin I pistol whip the baby dad until the pistol bent If I'm ever tripping you should check your friend Thinking I'mma let it slide, guess again Imma take it up a level, then again, then again Till its pull up dip bar, 10 to 10, then we spin I'm just tryna win I just want my full worth I just press 5 on 5 like a full court Youngins tryna get this new money off a old fork This shit all off of my bro porch I'm something like a blow torch Mixed with Mozart This is coke art And I need whole parts If I'm with you, its with my whole heart I'll take the penalty cause bro I'm jumping first like a false start Hardest for a while now 95 southbound Looking for a cow town that doesn't have a downtown They thought we'd be goners we around now They tried to set us up in corners like surround sound Ooh yeah, I'ma make a rapper prove theirs Starting off had to drop the ball like new years Delaware troopers at the door I'm all "who's there?" Ooh damn, I knew I never shoulda moved there Gotta stay cooly and nervous, I'm on the highway picking up bags That's community service I was homeless, now I'm sitting on a few upper perches I really got it out the water with the sew and the serpents Honor is the highest The plug is at the Hyatt down in New Orleans still serving out the pot that's jambalaya Funny how it does well in the water when it's fire When you wash money, you gon' take losses from the dryer How you tryna get the drop on us, I'm on the flyer The dog made hits by the trunk, but not the tires Every rapper's gotta shoot for the sun til' time expires If you insist on always bringing that gun, hire drivers Buyers walking by setting off the porch lights One day I'mma meet my match, but its gon' be a dogfight Brodie got a block that's doing 30 on a off night Gave him a quarter block, some fake 30s to start him off right This trap gon' be immaculate I just need a mansion with some bandos in the back of it And I don't ask for shit I just put soft in the street like environmental activists Lucky I'm alive Before you rob that store watch homie behind the drawer And the customers inside Cause everybody's carrying And bro just lost his re-up money gambling So he gon' get 'em sleeping, that's an Ambien If you scared when shit gets risky then bitch miss me They sick we came through with the choppers like Chris Christie Catching sales, I'm Travis Kelc' mixed with Nipsey And if you grab 36 Swifties they 650 No rappers ever been this nice and really lived All the shit they talk about Cause I'm talking about shit I really did So don't compare us And if they ain't built then don't come near us They pay for those connections, not me I social carry The consequence get more severer When you been trapping since the Jordan era I'm a porcelain seller I wasn't tripping off being broke, that's a portobello Driving ice up the road, like a organ seller A rats always got more to tell you A plug always got more sell you He just wants the bread first Shorty saying put her in the game, she came head first I said before it gets better, it's gotta get worse My net worth keep going up I heard my man got caught with them grams, I felt like throwing up I see my other friend pulling a Lamb, I felt like growing up I see my other friends go in on 10, so what we throwing up? I'm tryna make movies like Wahlberg, for them to raw serve You gotta pump it like a Mossberg I gave SK a whack 9 and we lost 4 I'm glad I had him whip it though, cause I'da probably lost more I heard your homie told and went to Job Core The streets are ferocious OG came home said he needs to get focused I gave him 10 stones like GOD did to Moses You play the streets, but they play for keeps And you be rapping on that phone like your favourite beat Don't let 'em take you to a land where you can't compete Behind the walls no hammers all hands and feet Razors and the pokers Marlboro man, I came up off the smokers Damn, I guess it's hard for me to focus Blame it on these putas, blame it on the chocha A wise man once said: "It's almost over Hey B, you gotta stack it while you still can." In the woods I did some target practice shot at tin cans I went to use the shit, the bitch still jammed I'm here from a slim chance They thinking I'mma repeat Life's hard, but a judge will give it to you easy I kiss the piff and sip the Fiji, play the gas station with shiny circles like I'm giving out my CD It's hard being broke, and the feds still want ya Homie ran off with the work, but the debt still on ya The circle gets smaller then the bread gets longer Rats gotta change they names like the Redskins on us Life's hard, go cry about it Your homie lived to talk his shit, and he died about it The fiend doesn't want the dope, he wants the tranq He's more addicted to that now, and says he don't get high without it If you ain't outside it's hard to relate There's no more driveby's, the young guys just park up and wait Mastered the ground level, then I started with weight And if they called after midnight it's double the rate Fuck it, what you know about the American Dream? There's supply, there's demand, you gotta get in between You see your mans girl cheating, and you kept it a (?) They still together, and you haven't seen him since, shit is (?) It's grimy outside I'm pulling in a lot before the law can switch lanes and get behind me outside I ain't lacking, but it ain't hard to find me outside I'm with the pitbulls, wrist full of diamonds outside The illest started rhyming, and they hate that it's me And the only reason they even hate is cause it's free I'm in a great space and they see Bro don't know the number change, he still pay back like 38 for a ki He said "Bro, it's been a minute since we been in the game" And I nod my head like "Same." Even though I still been in it I made it out the trenches, I ain't have to steal a image And I'm grimy, when they call me it I didn't feel offended It's F's on my jacket like a varsity letter The flow like the re-up dough, I went and got it together I told my bros: "Look we good, but we gotta do better." Ì got lessons from the losses, so I don't regret 'em Listen, it's Jack Harlow mixed with Trap (?) I trap hard, bro And have popped off a lot more since our last convo This the fam, I'm head honcho get 'em sent pronto Hit the West, drop the bread off, and go and get tacos (?) sprinkle coke in his blunt, he rolling El Chapos I said my (?) sprinkle coke in his blunt, he rolling El Chapos Still got those, vatos dineros never dealt gato