Clutchin

Lyrics
[Intro] Yeah, I'm clutchin' Don't stop, 'til my fuckin' casket drop Yeah, nigga, I'm clutchin' Hand on the automatic Russian Yo, check Yo, ayo [Verse 1] From the city where Bishop is your best friend (Watch out) Donnie Brasco be the cuttie you serve on the West End (Damn) Watch yourself; keep hollows in a Glock for niggas with a boxing belt (Uh-huh) Rather you than me and it was nothing that my conscience felt (Bao!) Keep your conversations short, I just want the wealth (Shut the fuck up) In lump sum; gettin' it was the conundrum (Had to figure it out) 'Til I met a plug and found out where the work come from (Uh-huh) Wise beyond my years, caught charges when I was young, dumb (Damn) Deaf and blind; the god turned seven to a twenty-five (What else?) Add three more extra, did that like eighty-seven times (Uh-huh) This is way before I had a record pressed in mind (Facts) I say all that to say: I been had relentless grind (I did) My right hand doin' time, he got a couple left (Free Drummer) He come home, like Emory Jones, we in the upper deck (Uh-huh) Gettin' paid to rap is still a lifestyle of sudden death (It is) Rappin' is a dangerous career, so I clutch the TEC (Ha) [Chorus] Now I lay me down to sleep I pray the Lord protect my soul, 'cause I know it's snakes surroundin' me I can't see 'em but I know they near They disguised as my homies and these hoes that's tryna fuck me bare I stay lethal, I don't really trust people They mislead you; my lifestyle's still illegal I met a fallen angel, he told me money was evil As he passed me a hundred for a bundle of diesel [Verse 2] Ayo, the richer and richer you get, the more you gotta watch (Gotta watch these niggas) A nigga that look like you try and kill you for your spot (Fuck outta here) It's crazy; I am what my lifestyle made me (Uh-huh) Standoffish, more cautious, still lawless and shady 'Cause I seen a head open up from results of a 80 (Blaow!) Lil' niggas dyin' young, and they ain't have no babies No legacy, just a Gucci belt and a old gat Tag your name in a jail cell, you bound to go back (Facts) I made "Street Farmacy", I was facin' a four-flat (It ain't shit) My art is a reflection of my life in song format (Uh-huh) Audio-biography, livin' life with no apologies Them other dudes ain't no competition, I'm not intrigued (That's facts) Plenty tricks up my Stone Island sleeve That I acquired moonwalkin' through the fire in my city streets (Uh) Chasin' money 'cause it's much to get (Yeah) They say rappin' is a dangerous career so I clutch the TEC (Bla! Bla!) [Chorus] Now I lay me down to sleep I pray the Lord protect my soul 'cause I know it's snakes surroundin' me I can't see 'em but I know they near They disguised as my homies and these hoes that's tryna fuck me bare I stay lethal, I don't really trust people They mislead you; my lifestyle's still illegal I met a fallen angel, he told me money was evil As he passed me a hundred for a bundle of diesel [Outro] I promise you
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Credits
- Writers
- Rome Streetz
- Wavy Da Ghawd